Author: Momo Chan

Connor and I were both high-profile attorneys. He was a rising star in corporate finance, while I specialized exclusively in divorce litigation. Our relationship was stable, our careers complemented each other, and we had been featured multiple times in legal magazines. In the industry, we were considered the model power couple. That was, until a college reunion. Connor’s college sweetheart suddenly teared up, mentioning that she had married the wrong man and was living a miserable life. Finally, she looked at Connor with tear-blurred eyes. “Connor… do you take divorce cases?” 01 Neither Connor nor I had originally planned to attend this alumni reunion. But I wrapped up my casework early and decided to tag along with him. Besides, at a reunion like this, running into an old flame and catching up was perfectly normal. I figured my presence there might just be a third wheel. Connor couldn’t help but laugh. “Attorney Chloe, you’re just a workaholic without a husband for the night, but you sure know how to spin it. You truly deserve your title as the firm’s top litigator.” “Everyone agreed to bring their plus-ones. We have a beautiful life together, there’s no lingering ‘what-ifs’ from the past.” “Do me the honor and come with me?” I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. My remaining workload wasn’t urgent, so I changed my clothes and headed out with him. Who knew my passing thought would become a prophecy. At the reunion, we really did run into Connor’s “one that got away,” Olivia. Olivia was Connor’s girlfriend in college. Back then, they were the golden couple—the handsome scholar and the beautiful campus queen. After graduation, Olivia entered the workforce, while Connor stayed for his master’s in law. They say graduation season is breakup season. Add to that the crushing workload of law school, and Connor couldn’t even provide her with basic companionship. Olivia quickly found a new boyfriend. Rumor had it, he was the heir to the company she worked for. I didn’t know if Connor had been devastated by the breakup back then. But whenever he mentioned that past relationship to me later, he brushed it off with a few casual words: “We just wanted different things.” But unrequited young love—how could she not be the elusive “white moonlight” in his memory? Olivia looked a bit thin. Her porcelain face had light makeup, her hair fell loosely over her shoulders, and she was still undeniably beautiful. Yet, she was alone. A curious classmate asked about the “plus-one” rule, wondering why she hadn’t brought her other half. Olivia just smiled and said nothing. I lifted my gaze to glance at Connor. He was focused entirely on peeling shrimp for me. Hearing the question, he even shared a knowing smile with me, his expression completely unfazed. After a few rounds of drinks, the atmosphere grew lively. The conversations deepened. Some people were networking and referring jobs, while others silently exchanged business cards. We were all adults in our thirties now; the unspoken rules of society were ingrained in our minds. The passionate bonds of our college days, sealed with a warm “plus-one” invite, were now just the perfect bridge for exchanging resources. Only Olivia sat alone in the corner, looking slightly out of place. She had lived a life of luxury for years, and these corporate struggles were completely alien to her now. Someone walked over to her with a wine glass, half-joking: “I heard our campus queen married into serious money! It’s a shame you didn’t bring your husband today. Otherwise, us corporate drones could have asked the billionaire heir for a leg up.” Olivia remained silent for a long moment before raising her glass and downing her wine in one gulp. Her eyes turned red, and even her voice trembled: “I don’t think I can help you guys with that. I… I’m planning to get a divorce.” 02 The classmate had only been making polite banter. But at Olivia’s words, a wave of awkwardness washed over his face. “I’m so sorry, I had no idea…” The private dining room gradually quieted down. Olivia’s tears suddenly spilled over. She looked utterly heartbroken. “It’s my own fault for being blind. I married the wrong man. I can’t blame anyone else.” A female classmate handed her a tissue. Between sobs, Olivia began to tell her story. It was nothing new: her husband was unfaithful, the family assets were entirely controlled by her in-laws, and his mistress had even provoked her so aggressively that it caused her to suffer a miscarriage. A beautiful woman crying is always a compelling sight. The old classmates listened, filled with righteous indignation. “What a scumbag! Why haven’t you divorced him yet?!” “Exactly! Our campus queen has the looks and the degree. Why should you put up with this?” “Divorce him today, find a young boy toy tomorrow! Life is short, live it up while you can.” Naturally, someone took the opportunity to point to Connor and me. “Hey, don’t Connor and Chloe run their own law firm? With our top-tier attorney here, you have nothing to worry about! Not only will you get the divorce, but they’ll strip that billionaire of everything he’s got!” Olivia’s eyes lit up, and her sobbing slowly ceased. I turned to look at Connor as well. His face was calm. He merely squeezed my hand a little tighter. He spoke in a steady voice, “My wife is the head of our divorce litigation department. If you need anything, you can consult her.” The atmosphere froze for a second. Olivia bit her lip, staring at me for a long moment before asking softly: “I’ve heard of Attorney Chloe’s stellar reputation. I wonder if it would be too much trouble to ask for some help?” I sighed inwardly. Her situation was actually very clear and painfully typical. Trust fund kids might be blinded by love, but the first-generation wealth builders are always ruthlessly clear-headed. Many wealthy families operate this exact way. They let the woman marry into the family, they let her live in the lap of luxury, but by the same token, they can kick her to the curb at any moment. All the legal procedures and financial structures are ironclad, leaving zero loopholes. I weighed my words carefully, trying to analyze her situation as objectively as possible: “…From a legal standpoint, the marital assets available for equitable distribution are practically zero.” “Even if he is the party at fault.” Olivia’s mouth dropped open in shock. I pointed to the rare leather Hermes Birkin bag sitting on her chair. “Perhaps, you should try to strategize and ask for more high-value gifts.” “Jewelry, designer clothes, and luxury goods like that are typically not subject to asset division during a divorce. They default to the woman’s personal property.” Olivia’s face instantly changed. She stared at me with a dark, heavy gaze: “So, what you’re saying, Attorney Chloe, is that after all my years of youth and sacrifice, all I can walk away with is a few handbags?” I was slightly surprised by her reading comprehension, but I nodded anyway. “It’s incredibly common for the ultra-wealthy to do this kind of pre-marital legal structuring.” A female classmate muttered a curse at the scumbag husband, while others whispered their sympathies for Olivia. Olivia ignored me completely. Instead, she turned her gaze back to Connor. “Connor, do you agree with this?” Connor stiffened, his grip on my hand tightening even more. I had to use a considerable amount of force to pull my hand away. With Connor’s professional experience, he understood this situation even better than I did. Sure enough, he remained silent. Seeing this, Olivia let out a few cold laughs. Then, she grabbed her bag and stood straight up: “I may not be as successful as you, Attorney Chloe, but I’m not so pathetic that I’d trade years of my relationship for a few handbags.” “Tell me, Attorney Chloe. Right now you’re advising me to trade my love for bags. What’s the next step?” “Are you going to suggest I pop out a few kids to extort them for child support?” “If this is the kind of advice a ‘top-tier’ divorce lawyer gives, then I don’t need it.” 03 Because of the scene Olivia caused, the reunion ended early. The restaurant was quite a distance from our house. Even with clear night traffic, the drive took nearly twenty minutes. Connor sat in the passenger seat in complete silence. I glanced at him from the corner of my eye. His eyes were half-closed, but his brow was deeply furrowed. This was the exact expression he wore whenever he encountered a particularly thorny case. I understood. After all, anyone would be slightly shaken by everything that had happened tonight. When we got home, I went into the study to handle some work. Connor didn’t follow me in like he usually did. I didn’t mind. That was, until the sound of shattering glass suddenly echoed from the living room. I walked out to see Connor standing in front of the wine cabinet. Red wine was splattered across the floor, looking like a gruesome crime scene. I frowned. “Why the massive mood swing?” Connor paused as he reached for a glass shard. “What?” I kept it brief: “Olivia.” Connor fell silent again. A trace of annoyance suddenly flared up inside me. Regarding tonight’s events, I was the one who should be angry. Olivia’s inexplicable outburst before she left had left me speechless. So, I coldly reminded him: “Connor, I told you early on I didn’t want to go. You insisted I come along.” “You were also the one who directed Olivia to ask me for advice.” Connor looked up at me, the bloodshot veins in his eyes clearly visible: “Yes. But Chloe, did you really have to be so harsh with your words?” I experienced a brief moment of pure confusion. I seriously had to think about whether the “harshness” he referred to was my conversation with Olivia, or my current tone with him. Connor rubbed his temples wearily: “Chloe, you’re so smart, and you’re always the objective observer. You saw at a glance that it was a dead end.” “But did you ever put yourself in her shoes? As the client, she’s already in immense pain from a miserable marriage.” “Why did you have to rub salt in her wounds?” He even looked at me dead in the eye. “Chloe, where is your empathy?” I literally laughed out loud from the sheer absurdity. Thankfully, years of courtroom conditioning meant my mouth reacted faster than my brain: “Connor, get your facts straight. I am not the cause of Olivia’s miserable marriage.” “Instead of preaching to me about meaningless empathy, you should teach Olivia how to leverage her resources.” “If she had even an ounce of sense to use what she had, she wouldn’t have ended up in this pathetic situation.” “Besides, when it comes to asset protection and legal structuring for high-net-worth clients, you know the drill better than anyone.” “What, did you just never imagine that one day those tactics would be used against your precious first love?” Connor’s face turned ugly. He clearly hadn’t expected me to be so sharp-tongued. He instinctively opened his mouth to explain, “Chloe, that’s not what I meant…” I curled my lips into a sneer, unable to hold back my sarcasm: “Then what did you mean? Don’t tell me you actually think that in this day and age, a mere marriage certificate is enough to walk away with half an empire built over generations?” “Or when you go to court, are you going to negotiate with the judge about how much ‘feelings’ and ‘youth’ are financially worth?” “Connor, what exactly are you so angry about?” Connor stayed silent for a very long time, then let out a heavy sigh. I watched as he meticulously wrapped the glass shards in paper, and painstakingly cleaned up the spilled red wine. Once everything was handled, he reached out and pulled me into his arms. “I’m sorry, Chloe.” “I know everything you said was the truth. I just lost my head for a second.” “I just… felt a little sorry for her.” “But at the end of the day, it was her choice, and it has nothing to do with anyone else.” 04 I didn’t let the argument escalate further. First, he had already apologized to me with utmost sincerity. He bought flowers, bought gifts, spent money, and put in the effort. He even thoughtfully left a note on the bank transfer that read: “Voluntary Gift.” Second, I didn’t hold my partner to some impossible standard of perfection. Olivia was a preexisting fact long before I came into the picture. No matter how they broke up, the beautiful moments of their past love wouldn’t just change or disappear. Perhaps people change, and things fade. But those memories will always become precious under the weight of time. I allowed Connor to keep that preciousness. People are emotional creatures, after all. Even an object becomes hard to part with after a long time, let alone someone you once loved. If I were in Connor’s shoes today, I might not be entirely stone-hearted either. And objectively, Olivia’s situation was pitiful. Putting aside her Ivy League degree and the bright future she should have had. As a woman, I sympathized with the pain and despair of being betrayed by the person she shared a bed with. I also admired her resolve to choose divorce when faced with a rotting marriage. That was part of my genuine inner thought. When I first entered the legal field, I didn’t have the luxury of picking my cases. Whatever landed on my desk, I poured my soul into it. Later, as I climbed the ranks and gained authority, I truly pivoted toward becoming a specialized divorce lawyer. Of course, before things truly fell apart, I believed every relationship deserved to be treated with care. Connor was exactly that. He was handsome, had a great personality, excelled at his job, and was a fantastic cook. In his early thirties, he maintained a strict fitness routine. His abs were clearly defined, with broad shoulders and a narrow waist—he was vibrant and full of life. By all worldly standards, he matched my preferences perfectly. So, this marriage, as it stood, was worth protecting. Life moved forward calmly. Connor and I worked as usual. If we happened to get off work early, we’d catch a movie or he’d cook a massive dinner. Olivia seemed like a side quest in a video game that briefly popped up. If ignored, it would quickly disappear. I didn’t hear about her again until half a month later. It was a small get-together with friends, and coincidentally, one of Connor’s old classmates was there. The classmate suddenly brought her up. “She and her husband have been fighting like crazy lately. Her Instagram used to be so aesthetic and peaceful, but now it’s all dramatic, depressing quotes. It’s a mess.” “Oh right, Connor, what’s up with you two playing the cold, elite couple in the group chat?” “Was it because of that night? Because she inexplicably blew up at Chloe?” I froze, lifting my gaze to look at Connor. Connor was busy boiling some vegetables in the hotpot. He thought for a second, then unlocked his phone and pushed it in front of me. He kept it brief: “She tried to add me a few times. I didn’t accept.” I glanced at the screen. Olivia had sent five consecutive friend requests. The first was the default system message. The second had a note: [It’s Olivia]. The third said: [I have something to ask you]. Clearly, Connor had ignored the first three. So for the fourth, she wrote: [Are all you lawyers this arrogant and condescending?] Connor still didn’t accept. The most recent one read: [I was overly emotional that night. Please apologize to Attorney Chloe for me.] I looked at Connor. “You’re not going to respond?” Connor furrowed his brow. “There’s no need.” I thought for a moment. Then I clicked reply under Olivia’s final message: [No need. This is Chloe.] I assumed this would be the end of it. But a few days later, our law firm welcomed an unexpected guest. Olivia. 05 A visitor is a guest; there was no reason to refuse her entry. When I finished a meeting and returned to the office area, she was standing in front of the firm’s Wall of Honor near the entrance. It was covered in the firm’s history, profiles of our practicing attorneys, and various awards. Olivia had her head tilted up, reading through them one by one. Finally, her gaze locked onto a specific spot. It was the page for the firm’s partners. Connor’s photo hung in the most prominent spot, his name followed by a long list of honors and awards. I stood behind her for several minutes before she finally snapped out of her daze. I cut straight to the chase: “Is there something we can help you with today, Ms. Olivia?” She smiled, her eyes curving. “Attorney Chloe is so brilliant, can’t you guess why I’m here?” I feigned curiosity: “This is a law firm. Naturally, you’re here for a lawsuit.” “Don’t tell me you just came to sightsee.” The smile in her eyes vanished inch by inch. “Yes.” “But I have a question. Are all the divorce cases here handled exclusively by you, Attorney Chloe?” I leaned back against the wall, quietly assessing her. She was wearing a hot pink slip dress today. Compared to the light makeup from that night, this was a bold, intense look that certainly caught the eye. With every movement, a strong scent of perfume wafted through the air. The corners of my lips curled up slightly: “Divorce isn’t exactly a complex legal matter. The facts are usually clear, the targets are simple.” “Any of the attorneys you just saw on that wall are more than capable.” She stared intensely into my eyes: “What about Attorney Connor?” I raised my hand and pointed down the hall: “Connor’s office is right over there.” “But he’s in a meeting right now. You’ll have to wait.” “Thank you, Attorney Chloe.” Olivia tucked a stray hair behind her ear. “But I already made an appointment with the receptionist.” At 4:30 PM, Connor returned to his office. The receptionist must have informed him beforehand; his expression didn’t change much when he saw Olivia. He walked over to me first. “Chloe, wait for me. We’ll head out exactly at 5:00.” I nodded. We had a movie date at 6:00 PM. Olivia followed Connor into his office. To protect client confidentiality, it was standard practice to close the door during consultations. I watched as Connor noticeably hesitated, then opted to leave the door slightly ajar. Low voices drifted out. It was mostly Olivia speaking, with Connor occasionally asking a question. I couldn’t be bothered to eavesdrop, so I used the time to review my case files. At 5:00 PM, the Slack notification popped up right on time, reminding everyone the workday was over. I glanced over at his office. They weren’t done. Colleagues began filtering out one by one. The sweet girl at the front desk came over to ask if I needed her to order overtime dinner. I smiled and shook my head. “No thanks, I’m leaving right now.” By 5:30 PM, the door across from me had somehow been shut completely tight. Olivia’s hot pink silhouette reflected against the frosted glass, looking even more vibrant under the bright office lights. At 5:40 PM, I grabbed my bag, left, and drove to the movie theater. Connor never showed up. But during the movie, my phone kept blowing up with texts and calls from him. Annoyed, I just switched it to airplane mode. Peace at last. When the movie ended, I followed the crowd out and immediately spotted Connor standing by the exit. His gaze cut through the sea of people, landing heavily on me. He stepped forward, his tone rushed and panicked: “Chloe, I didn’t mean to miss it. I lost track of time, and then I couldn’t reach you.” “I rushed over as fast as I could, but they said I was 20 minutes late and wouldn’t let me in. All I could do was wait here.” A faint, unmistakable perfume drifted off his clothes. Fighting down a wave of nausea, I cut him off. “Let’s just go home.” 06 Connor took Olivia’s case. He brought it up the second we walked through the door: “Olivia wants me to represent her in this lawsuit. She spent the whole time detailing everything that’s happened over the last few years, which is why I missed the movie.” “She’s had a really hard time. She just wanted a normal life, but then she got tangled up with a family like that…” “But Chloe, if you’re uncomfortable with it, I can drop it.” As he spoke, he took a step closer to me. That wave of nausea hit me again. I couldn’t help but say bluntly, “Your perfume smell is a bit strong.” He froze, immediately explaining: “Olivia’s heel broke. I just caught her so she wouldn’t fall.” “I’ll go shower right now.” Two days later. A girl from the admin department brought over a stack of representation agreements for the firm’s official seal. I glanced at them, and Olivia’s contract was right on top. The “Lead Attorney” line was blank. I asked, “Is this case signed?” “Attorney Connor said he’ll sign it later,” she explained, then added, “But her retainer has been paid in full.” I nodded. That afternoon, Connor specifically sought me out. He even brought his tablet with the preliminary case files, looking incredibly serious. “Chloe, she can’t drag this out any longer. She needs someone to guide her and cut the Gordian knot.” “Connor, I didn’t realize you weren’t just a lawyer, but a magician too.” He blinked. “What?” I burst out laughing. “Isn’t it all right there in the background check?” “The company and the real estate are all under his parents’ names. Even the husband himself lives off a trust fund allowance.” “Good thing Olivia hasn’t worked since they got married, otherwise she’d be giving him half her income.” “For a case like this, she’s paying you top dollar. Honestly, unless you have some kind of magic wand, what can you do?” Connor’s face went pale. He looked at me: “Chloe, I haven’t signed it yet.” “If you’re really this upset, I can transfer it to another colleague.” “But trust me, I know what I’m doing. I promise you, it’s strictly professional.” I smiled. Just listen to him. From ‘I can drop it’ at the beginning, to ‘I can transfer it’ now. The difference in commitment was glaringly obvious. And, of course, the prerequisite was still ‘if you’re really this upset.’ I waved my hand, replying warmly: “I’m just joking, don’t take it so seriously.” “The client already paid the retainer. If you should sign it, sign it.” “At the end of the day, it’s revenue for the firm.” … Olivia began frequenting the law firm. At first, she would politely greet me, or specifically mention that if I was worried, I could sit in on the meetings in Connor’s office. After I politely declined a few times. She started just standing outside my door, giving me a curt nod before twisting her hips and walking straight into his office. I looked up. The glass door across the hall was shut tight. Faint, scattered laughter drifted out, the tones drawn out and flirtatious, designed to tug at a man’s heartstrings. I got up and went to the conference room. Today was our regular staff meeting. After reviewing the month’s cases. A junior associate asked, “Chloe, where’s Connor? Why didn’t he come to the meeting? I had a case I wanted his advice on.” I said, “He’s busy.” The colleague let out a disappointed ‘oh,’ then smiled: “Chloe, you handled that case last time so brilliantly! I read the ruling. The husband didn’t get away with a single cent. That has to be one of the most satisfying divorce victories in years, right?” “That case was indeed a textbook example. I’ll summarize the key points and post it in the group chat later.” “Thank you so much! I really want to study it.” Right then, Connor pushed the door open and walked in. “Study what? Chloe, why didn’t you grab me for the meeting?” Before I could speak, the junior associate chimed in: “Chloe said you were busy.” Connor froze. The associate smacked his forehead: “We were just talking about studying Chloe’s amazing case file.” “Oh right, Connor, didn’t you just take on a new divorce case? You should check the group chat too, it might come in handy!” Connor hesitated, glancing over at me. The corners of my lips curled up. “Attorney Connor’s case is highly complex. I’m afraid my methods won’t apply.”

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I was trying to catch up on sleep on my flight when a flight attendant unexpectedly shook me awake. “Excuse me, ma’am. I noticed you didn’t order a meal. Are you feeling unwell?” I shook my head. “Just tired. I’m going to sleep. No food for me, thank you.” But ten minutes later, the exact same flight attendant woke me up again. “Are you absolutely sure you don’t want to eat? We have a wide variety of options for our in-flight service today.” I waved my hand dismissively. “Please, I just want to sleep. I really don’t want to eat.” I had finally managed to string together a few minutes of interrupted sleep. I didn’t expect to open my groggy eyes and be met with the flight attendant’s overly eager gaze yet again. “If you’re not eating, I need you to fill out this survey and explain exactly why.” “And you can’t just check the multiple-choice boxes. This is so we can provide you with better service in the future.” 01 After pulling an all-nighter, I was flying out of state for a business trip. Tray table locked, seatbelt fastened. The sound of the plane’s engines roaring to life was my favorite lullaby, signaling my long-awaited date with the Sandman. This particular client was notoriously difficult to please. The night before the trip, they were still asking me to “make the black pop” on our presentation design. Thankfully, after rushing and burning the midnight oil, I finally submitted a deck they were satisfied with. A three-hour flight isn’t incredibly long, but it isn’t short either. It was just enough time for a deep, restorative nap. Terrified of being disturbed during the meal service, I pulled out a sticky note I had written while waiting at the gate and slapped it right on the seatback in front of me. Neon yellow paper, bold red Sharpie. “Please do not wake for meal service. Thank you.” Normally, I’m not this aggressively extroverted. But having a deep, sweet sleep interrupted is a cruel and unusual punishment. My eyelashes fluttered shut, and I drifted off beautifully. But before I could even reach the drooling stage of a good nap, a warm touch pressed against my arm. At the same time, a saccharine female voice leaned close to my ear. “Ma’am, what would you like for your meal today?” I waved my hand in despair and pointed at the sticky note on the seat in front of me. But the voice beside me didn’t disappear. Instead, it went up an octave. “We have the beef bowl or the chicken and rice. Which one would you prefer?” “Ma’am? Ma’am?” Through the relentless calling, I forced myself to muster a shred of consciousness. “No, thank you. I’m not eating. Thanks.” Forcing a chronically exhausted corporate drone to speak and answer questions is a cruel thing, but I figured the flight attendant was just doing her job. Wage slaves shouldn’t make life harder for other wage slaves. That was a core philosophy I adopted after entering the corporate world. My eyelids grew heavy. I snuggled into my seat, desperately hoping to seamlessly transition back into sleep. But the very next second, the flight attendant’s voice rang out again. “Are you really sure you don’t want to eat, ma’am?” “The food on this route gets great reviews. People rave about it on TikTok and Instagram all the time.” God help me. Was this airline meal made of gold? Was it mandatory that I eat it? “Thank you, but I really don’t want to eat. I just want to sleep.” “And please, you don’t need to ask me again. Thank you.” I pointed to the sticky note on the seat again, blindly grabbed my noise-canceling headphones from my pocket, and put them on. My verbal, physical, and visual rejections didn’t buy me peace. Instead, the flight attendant crouched down and spoke in a voice that sounded sincere, but was perfectly calibrated to carry to the rows in front of and behind me. “It’s completely fine, ma’am.” “These meals are complimentary and included in the price of your ticket. There’s no extra charge, so you really don’t need to worry about the cost.” That woke me up. I was pissed. “I told you I want to sleep and not to wake me up. What is your goal in repeatedly harassing me and asking me questions?” “And bringing up the cost? With your twisted logic, working as a flight attendant is a waste of your talents. You should go write soap operas; you’d probably get a billion views overnight.” “Just go, go away. I’m begging you.” I put my hands together in a pleading motion, turned my body away, closed my eyes, and tried to salvage the rest of my time. But a second later, the flight attendant stood up, her voice choking with tears. “Ma’am, are you feeling unwell?” “I apologize, I was only worried about you.” “Ma’am? Ma’am?” 02 I wasn’t a “Ma’am.” I was a victim. I was a corporate workhorse enslaved by my boss, and currently, I was a monkey in a zoo being gawked at. I opened my eyes, my gaze slowly sweeping over my surroundings. Even through the haze of sleep deprivation, I could clearly feel the burning stares coming at me from all directions. “Alright, alright, don’t give her a hard time. The flight attendant is just doing her job.” “Seriously. She’s just a young girl, why does that passenger have such a nasty temper?” “She’s probably just jealous because the flight attendant is pretty. She’s giving her a hard time on purpose.” They weren’t just staring; they were gossiping. And they weren’t even whispering. I rubbed my aching neck, took a deep breath, and didn’t rush to respond to the teary-eyed flight attendant. Instead, I looked straight at the older couple who were gossiping the loudest. I didn’t say a word. I just stared. However long they kept talking, this “hard-working” flight attendant would have to stand in front of my furious face. This is called pressure transfer. My boss uses it in meetings all the time. I took the best parts of the tactic and discarded the rest. The results were instantaneous. Soon enough, the flight attendant standing before me, as well as the nosy passengers on either side, followed my gaze to the couple. The couple exchanged an awkward glance and sheepishly lowered their heads. External threats neutralized; time to handle the internal issue. I slowly looked up at the flight attendant in front of me. She blinked her reddened eyes, looking at me innocently. It was as if I were the wicked hunter, and she was a cornered, helpless fawn. Finally realizing I wasn’t an easy target, she spoke, her voice pitiful. “Ma’am, I am so sorry. I only wanted to provide you with better service.” “I’m still in my probationary period. Please give me a chance, okay?” “Please don’t file a complaint against me. I promise I’ll be more careful and fix my mistakes in the future.” An apology was fine. There was no need to push someone to the brink. Even though I still felt incredibly annoyed, I shook my head at her. “It’s fine. I won’t report you. We’re all just trying to make a living.” “I just want to sleep. Until the plane lands, please do not wake me up for meal service or anything else.” “Seriously. Please.” Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. This time, I watched the flight attendant turn around and walk toward the other end of the plane before finally burying my face back into the seat cushion. The unpleasant interruption was finally over. If I didn’t catch up on sleep now, I would be nodding off like a pigeon pecking at grain during my afternoon meeting. My meticulously prepared presentation—the “minimalist but with flair” deck—would be dragged through the mud by the client. All my hard work, and the final payment, would vanish into thin air. Interrupted sleep is incredibly hard to resume. After repeatedly inhaling and counting sheep, drowsiness finally hit me. Just as I was sinking into that hazy, blissful state, a sharp pain shot up my arm. I opened my eyes, wincing. The next second, the sharp, stiff edge of printer paper was thrust into my face. The flight attendant had returned. She solemnly handed a pen to me. “Ma’am, if you’re not eating, I need you to fill out this survey and explain exactly why.” 03 I looked at the red scratch on my arm, then at the printer paper now resting on my tray table, densely packed with questions. It was the middle of summer, and I had been sweating profusely. The fresh paper cut stung like fire as sweat seeped into it. Anger flared up inside me, burning so hot my tongue felt tied into knots. Just as I was trying to find the words to express my fury, the flight attendant leaned in and meticulously instructed me. “You can’t just check the multiple-choice boxes. Please make sure to fill out the detailed comments section as well.” “This is so we can reflect and summarize our performance, allowing us to provide you with better service in the future.” My tongue untied itself, but my brain felt like it was short-circuiting. My only request was that she leave me alone so I could sleep. Why was it absolutely necessary for her to repeatedly wake me up? If I were sitting in the emergency exit row, I would force myself to stay awake to fulfill my duties, no matter how tired I was. But I was just a regular passenger. Saying no to food is a right. Saying no to a survey is a right. Seeing me sit in stunned silence, a flash of impatience crossed the flight attendant’s eyes, though her smile grew even sweeter and more accommodating. “Ma’am, are you having trouble reading the English on the form?” “If needed, we can provide Spanish or French translation services for you.” Before my exhausted brain could even process the insult, she leaned down, starting her unsolicited translation. “Estimada pasajera… Dear passenger, thank you for your cooperation…” Her accent was terrible. Honestly, if this were any other time, I might have found the sheer audacity amusing. But right now, I had absolutely zero patience left. “You want feedback? Here’s your feedback.” I grabbed the pen she had forced on me and aggressively drew a massive ‘X’ across the entire survey. I pressed down so hard the pen tore right through the paper. “Ma’am, you…” The sudden outburst left the flight attendant—who had been smugly butchering her translation moments before—staring in utter shock. Before she could react, I whipped out my phone and snapped a photo of the torn survey and her face. I take back what I said earlier. I was reporting her. As soon as I got off this business trip, I was filing a formal complaint. I’ve flown countless times, and I had never met a flight attendant this unhinged. “You can leave now. Save yourself the effort of trying to patronize me.” “And you don’t need to ‘reflect and summarize’ for the future, because I will never fly this airline again.” I didn’t mince words. I crumpled the torn survey into a ball and tossed it into the seatback pocket, completely ignoring how the flight attendant’s smile was freezing over, inch by inch. “Ma’am, I am so sorry.” “Please do not let my individual mistake affect the evaluation of our entire flight crew.” “You can apologize to me however you want, but my colleagues are innocent. Please do not project your anger onto innocent people.” “Adults should know how to maturely manage their emotions, instead of…” Tears welled up in her eyes, threatening to spill over, but she stubbornly held them back. Her voice was full of grievance, every word articulated clearly. I squeezed the airsickness bag in my hand until it crumpled. Excuse me? When did I say I was reporting the entire crew? What kind of toxic, guilt-tripping corporate logic was this? Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in again. I looked at the flight attendant, who was putting on a tearful performance while stubbornly refusing to leave my side. There truly is a wall in communication between some people. With bizarre individuals like her, the best tactic is to completely ignore them. Thinking this, I pulled out my laptop. Since sleep was out of the question, I might as well use the time to review my presentation one more time. But the very next second, a scalding cup of hot coffee was splashed all over my keyboard. Watching the dark brown liquid seep deeper and deeper into the keys, I frantically leaned over, trying to dig through my bag for tissues. But before I could even pull them out, a heavy coffee pot hovered directly over my arm, blocking my access to the tissues. “I’m so sorry, I just wanted to pour you a cup of coffee to apologize…” 04 “I’m so sorry, I just wanted to pour you a cup of coffee to apologize.” “Please don’t be angry. I’ll pour you a fresh cup right now.” “Please, I beg you, do not report our crew…” Buzz, buzz, buzz. Her voice echoed relentlessly in my ears. I wearily lifted my head and looked at her. Both of her hands were tightly gripping the coffee pot. She lowered her eyes, looking like a child who had made a mistake. Yet, right next to her on the beverage cart sat a thick stack of life-saving napkins, which she conveniently ignored. “Move your hands first. Let me grab some napkins to wipe off my keyboard.” I spoke, my voice dripping with exhaustion. At this point, the only thing that mattered was saving my laptop. I truly didn’t have the energy to care about anything else. The sticky coffee liquid dried on my dark clothing. After a lot of scrubbing, the keyboard finally looked somewhat normal again. Though it was a mess, at least my most crucial piece of equipment had survived. I slumped numbly back against the seat, glancing at the time on my desktop screen. There was an hour and a half left until landing. Instead of trying to salvage a fragmented nap, I decided to go to the lavatory and wash my face. With that in mind, I unbuckled my seatbelt and started to stand up to head toward the back. The next instant, a splash of hot coffee was dumped directly onto the top of my head. Drip, drop. The coffee ran down my hair, soaking into my undershirt. I stood frozen in shock, instantly transforming into a walking espresso machine. “What the fuck…” Feeling the sticky, hot mess covering my body, and remembering my tight schedule after landing, my rage finally overpowered my exhaustion. I wrung the coffee out of my bangs and glared coldly at the flight attendant who caused this disaster. Just as I was about to speak, she set the coffee pot down and looked at me with disdain. “Ma’am, I have already apologized to you.” “You can be unhappy with me, but we are in a public space. Please mind your manners.” ??? She was speaking English, but put together, I didn’t seem to understand the logic at all. Remembering the photos I had taken on my phone, I forcefully swallowed my anger. I turned sideways to avoid brushing against the seats and walked into the lavatory. Splashing cool water on my face made me feel slightly better. After landing, I’d get my checked luggage first, then change my clothes in an airport restroom. I had a Ziploc bag in my carry-on with a spare change of clothes. I could send the dirty ones to the hotel’s laundry service later. As for my hair… I’d have to see if I could find a salon near the meeting location to get it quickly washed and blown out. With the next steps clear in my head, I wiped the stains off my body. But the moment I pushed open the lavatory door and stepped out, I was met with two eager faces. “Hello, I am the Purser for this flight.” “I have something I’d like to discuss with you.”

On the day of high school graduation, in front of the entire class, I threw a thick stack of cash at Silas Carter’s feet. “I’m bored with this. Let’s call it quits.” He knelt down, picking up the bills one by one. With a raspy voice, he said only one word: “Okay.” By the end of summer, Silas boarded a train for Harvard. I boarded a flight out of state to begin a long, grueling journey of chemotherapy. Many years later, I returned home. I was lying in a hospital bed, my hair completely gone from the treatments. Just as I was busy picking out a wig on my phone, the ward door swung open. There stood Silas Carter in a white lab coat. Our eyes met. 01 When Silas walked in, I was facedown on the bed, positioned awkwardly for an exam. My phone was blaring the high-pitched voice of an Amazon influencer: “Prime Day deals! Don’t miss out, these wigs are selling fast!” “Miss Bennett? Looking at hair pieces again?” The noisy room went silent instantly. The nurse pointed at me. “Dr. Carter, this is the new patient for the clinical trial. She’s already signed the consent forms.” The moment Silas looked at me, I froze like a deer in headlights. My mind went completely blank. Ten years. The man I thought I’d never see again had suddenly become my attending physician. And he walked in right while I was doing my post-op exercises. I wanted to die. I scrambled up, frantically adjusting my lopsided surgical mask. I sat there, frozen. Even though I didn’t look him in the eye, I could feel his gaze landing on me. It was icy. Cold. It was nothing like the helpless, gentle look he used to give me when I got a math problem wrong ten years ago. “Miss Bennett, this is the head of our department, Dr. Silas Carter. He will be personally overseeing your treatment plan.” I dodged his gaze and gave a quick, jerky nod. I didn’t make a sound. The med student standing beside him opened my chart and began reciting my history. “Maya Bennett, female, 28. Ten years ago, a routine physical revealed enlarged cervical lymph nodes. Initial diagnosis: Non-Hodgkin’s Lymphoma. Further biopsy showed—” “I don’t need to hear the rest,” Silas interrupted. “Oh? Do you know this patient, Doctor?” My heart jumped into my throat. I pretended to be busy fiddling with my phone. I could feel Silas staring at the ridiculous knitted beanie on my head—the one with the little sheep ears. After a long pause, he said flatly, “I don’t. But her case is unique. I reviewed the files beforehand.” My phone screen automatically jumped to the checkout page. The timer was counting down. Seconds ticked by. I was so dazed that I forgot to hit “buy.” The med student finished reporting the plan. Silas listened, his voice devoid of any personal emotion. “Fine. Continue the current regimen. Recheck tomorrow.” Then, he moved on to the next patient. He was in the ward for twenty minutes. Until the moment he left, he never looked at me again. I moved my stiff neck and realized my back was soaked with sweat. The link for the wig had expired. It was sold out. Dammit. But the only thing I could be grateful for was that Silas had clearly forgotten me. Even when the student read my full name, he hadn’t flinched. 02 When Silas and I first met, we didn’t get along. I was a brat with a rich father, acting out and failing every class. The principal, hoping Silas’s brilliance would rub off on me, made him my desk mate. At first, Silas ignored me. He spent every day buried in his SAT prep books, over and over. He was smart, kind, and gorgeous. His only “flaw” was that he was poor. I was the opposite. I wasn’t smart, I wasn’t particularly kind. Sitting next to him, I looked like a brainless socialite. Luckily, my social intelligence was high. While all the other girls sent him flowers and love letters, I bought him the most expensive Princeton Review and Barron’s prep sets. I bought every single one of his textbooks and exam fees. Within a semester, I had won him over. The day I tentatively kissed him was his birthday. His white shirt was wrinkled, my lipstick was smudged on his lips, and he looked down at me. “What does this mean?” It was my first time kissing a boy. My brain short-circuited. I stammered, “D-don’t you get it? Be my boyfriend.” The tips of Silas’s ears turned red. He whispered, “Okay.” Those were the good days. I hated studying, but I would sit obediently by his side in the library, listening to him tutor me. In one year, my scores went up by hundreds of points. I was on track to get into a university in New York. I wouldn’t have to do long-distance with him. If only that physical hadn’t happened… “BLEGH—” My retching echoed in the hospital bathroom. I clutched the toilet, my vision swimming, drenched in a cold sweat. My best friend, Chloe, rubbed my back. “This isn’t working. Your reaction is too intense. I’m going to find the doctor.” I grabbed her hand. “Don’t. I’m used to it.” During my first bout years ago, I went through 27 rounds of chemo alone. I survived. I held on for ten years, but the cancer came back. I didn’t want to be a nuisance to the doctors every time I felt sick. Chloe wasn’t having it. “Isn’t Silas your lead doctor? I’ll find him. He’ll have a way to help.” I hugged Chloe’s leg. “My dear, please, just drop it. You should be glad he hasn’t recognized me. If he does, he’ll probably order a hundred more rounds of chemo just for revenge.” “Who told you we do a hundred rounds of chemo?” A cold voice came from behind us. I froze. I didn’t dare turn around. Chloe let out a breath of relief. “Dr. Carter, Maya isn’t feeling well—” “It’s a normal reaction to the treatment. If she can’t handle it…” I didn’t hear what else he said to Chloe. My mind was stuck on one thought: Did he hear what I just said? 03 That evening, the nurse came in to give me an anti-nausea shot. She looked at me curiously. “Do you know Dr. Carter personally?” I lay on the bed, feeling like a ghost. “No. Why do you ask?” “Dr. Carter never handles these small details himself. But he went to the office personally today to tell your primary care physician to order these specific shots for you.” I looked at myself in the mirror. I had lost so much weight. The pain had drained the color from my face. Compared to ten years ago, I looked like a different person. There was no way… Even if Silas had a great memory… Wait. He did have a great memory. What if he was just biding his time to get back at me? The name “Maya Bennett” was right there on my chart. How could I think he wouldn’t know? Chloe chimed in, “Is your Dr. Carter really only 28? He’s already a department head?” “Oh, you did your research! Dr. Carter was a prodigy. MD-PhD, graduated by 26. His resume is one in a million. Most people can’t compare.” The nurse saw Chloe’s interest and smiled. “Thinking of chasing him? Save your breath. He’s already spoken for.” Chloe winked at me. The nurse continued, “The Dean’s daughter. She’s a PhD from Oxford. Word is, they’ll be married soon.” The smile died on Chloe’s lips. I started picking at a loose thread on my hospital gown, suddenly finding it the most interesting thing in the world. After the nurse left, Chloe whispered, “Maya, I’m so sorry…” “Hey, it’s fine.” “I’m 28 now, not 18.” The dream of the cold, handsome god falling for me ended ten years ago. 04 I didn’t see Silas again after that day. I couldn’t see him, but I heard about him. He was either away at a medical conference or in the lab doing research. He only came for rounds once a week to adjust treatment plans. During the break between chemo cycles, patients are allowed to go home. I didn’t see him until the day I was discharged. On my way home, I got a call from my old high school class president, Marcus. “Maya! Are you still in the city? How’s the treatment going?” The background was noisy. It sounded like a party. The old valedictorian’s voice cut in: “Why didn’t you tell us you were sick? If Marcus hadn’t mentioned it, we wouldn’t have known.” I was actually pretty popular in high school. I’d kept in touch with Marcus and a few others. I laughed weakly. “I didn’t want to bother anyone.” “That’s nonsense. Where are you staying? We’re coming to see you tomorrow.” I couldn’t say no to their kindness, so I gave them my address. My family had spent a lot of money on my treatments over the years. Thanks to Chloe, I’d found a relatively cheap apartment to rent near the hospital. It was a ground-floor unit with a small yard. When I felt well enough, I could plant flowers or maybe get a dog. Half our class stayed in our hometown; the rest were scattered across the country. Only five or six people showed up. They arrived with bags of groceries. “We wanted to go out for hot pot, but it’s too hot. Let’s just cook here.” I was wearing a thick beanie. I smiled. “It’s fine, I have AC. I missed hot pot.” They piled into the kitchen, shouting and laughing. The house suddenly felt alive. It felt like graduation all over again. Marcus asked while peeling carrots, “Have you reached out to Silas?” I froze for a second. “What?” “Come on, didn’t you know? He’s a world-renowned specialist in hematology. He specializes in lymphomas. Why didn’t you ask him for a consult?” “Oh, I—” I really didn’t want to be linked to Silas again. Suddenly, the doorbell rang. Marcus wiped his hands on his apron and went to open it. Then, I heard the cheers. “Silas! You actually made it!” “Wow, Dr. Carter, long time no see.” “Come in! Maya wants hot pot. You’re the expert—can she even eat that?” I stood there like an idiot. My face was bare, no mask, no makeup. I felt exposed, like I was standing under a spotlight. I didn’t expect them to contact him. And I definitely didn’t expect to face him while I looked like this. Silas looked at me calmly. “Keep the broth mild,” he said softly. “Right, right! Listen to the doctor. No spicy broth!” Everyone went back to being busy. Silas took off his shoes and stepped into the guest slippers Marcus gave him. He handed a bag of fruit to the people in the kitchen. Marcus tried to lighten the mood. “Hey, whatever happened is in the past.” “Let bygones be bygones. Silas, you’re a big-shot now, don’t hold a grudge against Maya.” “Here, help us prep the greens.” Silas was handed a colander full of spinach. He was pushed toward the sofa. Suddenly, it was just the two of us in the living room. The AC hummed in the corner. I dodged his eyes, frantically reaching for the mask I’d left on the couch. Silas snapped a spinach stem with a crisp pop. He said flatly: “You’ve already recognized me. Is there really a point in hiding?” 05 The atmosphere was suffocatingly awkward. Actually, I was the only one who felt awkward. I hesitated, then slowly pulled my hand back, feeling defeated. “I thought you didn’t recognize me. That’s why I didn’t say hi at the hospital.” “There was no need.” “What?” “We aren’t close. No need for greetings.” Silas kept his head down, expertly prepping the spinach. He had no intention of chatting. I nodded silently and pushed a glass of water toward him. “Drink some… water.” “I’m not thirsty. Thanks.” Cold. So cold. Since he rejected me, I didn’t want to keep embarrassing myself. I just sat there. I tried to remember if I’d done anything humiliating during my hospital stay. Marcus poked his head out of the kitchen. “Maya, we’re out of paper towels. Grab me a roll?” “Oh, sure.” I stood up quickly and started rummaging through the bottom of a cabinet. The landlord’s furniture was old. When I pulled the drawer, the whole cabinet shook. A heavy photo frame on the top shelf lost its balance and started to tip. By the time I realized it, it was too late. I just crouched down and covered my head. I waited for the impact. The next second, the light dimmed. Silas had reached out and caught the frame. Because his back was to the light, I couldn’t see his face, but the air around him felt frigid. He didn’t look happy. “Thanks,” I whispered. Silas ignored me. When I crawled out from under the cabinet, I saw what he was looking at. It was a photo I’d secretly taken of Silas sleeping ten years ago. The summer sun was filtering through the trees, landing on his sharp profile. He was fast asleep. He hadn’t even noticed me tentatively reaching out to touch his hand. In that moment, I seriously considered snatching the photo and eating it. “Maya Bennett.” “Yeah?” “Explain this.” I paused, instinctively reaching up to scratch my head. A clump of hair came away in my fingers. Under Silas’s freezing gaze, I forced a laugh. “It’s just… an ‘Ex Wall,’ right? Haha. Just for memories—” “Oh? Is that so?” Silas pointed to a group of photos of me and Chloe. His voice took on a sharp edge. “According to you, you’ve dated girls too?” I swallowed hard. “Y-yeah. I… I’ve dated everyone.” Silas’s sharp gaze felt like it was burning through me. I couldn’t keep the fake smile up. I looked everywhere but at him. “Maya, you guys—” Marcus opened the kitchen door, sensed the weird tension, and immediately shut his mouth. Silas’s face was dark. He put the frame back, wiped his hands with a tissue, and grabbed his jacket. “Hey, Silas! Where are you going?” “Emergency at the hospital. I have to go.” “Wait, we haven’t finished talking about Maya’s case… Silas, stay for dinner!” Silas stood at the door and looked at me. I said nothing. He seemed to be waiting for me to say something. But he was disappointed. I stayed silent. Silas let out a very soft, mocking laugh. “Is there really a point in an unwelcome ex staying here?” The door clicked shut. Silas was gone. 06 Silas’s departure cast a shadow over the room for a minute. But soon, the smell of Marcus’s hot pot broth brightened things up. “Marcus, you’ve still got it. Your cooking is amazing.” Marcus chuckled, holding a beer. He nodded at me. “Maya, don’t take it to heart. Silas… hey, I’ll talk to him! He’s got to give his old class president some respect!” The others chimed in with comforts. “When I called him, he sounded busy. But he’s a professional, he’ll help you.” “Yeah, let’s eat!” I wasn’t actually that hurt. Mostly, I just felt guilty. In my mind, Silas and I shouldn’t have any more overlap. I didn’t want to bring him more trouble because of my illness. We had a lively dinner. Marcus even started a FaceTime call with the whole class group. The group chat exploded. For a moment, it felt like the days before the SATs. Everyone was talking about their dreams. Planning graduation trips. Back then, Silas and I were desk mates. A week before the finals, he came back from the teacher’s office and saw me with a red marker, doodling on a map. He asked, “What are you doing?” I held up the map and waved it in front of him. “Can’t you tell? It’s New York!” I’d drawn two red circles. “This is your school. And this one… this is mine.” I drew a straight line between them. “The shortest distance between two points. That’s how far apart we’ll be.” Silas couldn’t help but smile. “You think you can get into a school in the city?” “What, you wouldn’t be happy?” He sat down next to me, neatly stacking his papers. He said softly, “I’d be very happy.” But my luck was bad. A few days later, I got my physical results. The labs were a disaster. Warning arrows covered the page. The doctor told my parents we needed to go to a specialist in the city immediately. From the looks of it, I wouldn’t be going to college at all. I tentatively asked Silas, “Hey, what if I got really sick one day and couldn’t go to New York? What would you do?” Silas’s pen stopped. He frowned. “Are you sick?” “No! Don’t jinx me! It’s an online personality quiz! Answer seriously!” “I’d probably get into the best med school I could. I’d just change my major.” That answer made my heart ache. I pushed my math homework onto his desk. “Whatever, just do your math problems! Nerd.” He loved math. Why would he want to be a doctor? On the afternoon the finals were ending, I got a nosebleed. Blood stained the exam paper. I didn’t know if it counted as “tampering” with the test. It didn’t matter. I left that night for a hospital out of state. Standing on a busy city street, I wanted to cry. The New York promise… I was the one who arrived first. Then came the diagnosis. Packing my bags. I threw that cash at Silas in front of everyone. I ended our story with a messy, cruel period.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “409918”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

In the college group chat, the academic advisor posted the list of accepted students for the highly coveted internship program. Immediately, my roommate sent three “celebration” emojis, pushing the image up. I scrolled up and stared at the screenshot for a long time, only to realize my name wasn’t on it. How could that be? I got the Dean’s List scholarship every year, and my interview had gone flawlessly. Besides, Horizon Tech was the only company I wanted to intern for. I gathered my courage and DM’d the advisor to ask why. I didn’t expect him to ignore my private message and instead post a passive-aggressive comment in the main chat: “If you didn’t get accepted, just don’t ask. You’ll only humiliate yourself.” “If you’re not cut out for campus recruiting, just be a good girl and apply for a minimum-wage factory job.” I wanted to explain. But he just blocked me. Left with no other choice, I had to swallow my pride and call my dad: “I didn’t get the internship at our subsidiary.” 01 At 11:59 PM, the group chat, which was supposed to announce the accepted interns today, finally showed some activity. But strangely, the advisor only posted an image without tagging anyone. I was puzzled. As soon as I refreshed the chat, my roommate, Chloe, spammed three “party popper” emojis. “Chloe, stop messing around.” I anxiously scrolled up to find the image and my eyes widened in shock. My name wasn’t on the list. I remembered clearly that the HR representative was very impressed with me during the interview. He even said he’d keep a close eye on me once I joined the company. But now, everyone in my dorm except me had been accepted. Even Chloe, who failed classes regularly, got in. I, the one who won scholarships every year, was the only one rejected. A cold sweat broke out on my back as I counted the names on the list again. Exactly eight. No more, no less. Which meant there was no “accidental omission.” I took a deep breath, forcing myself to calm down. Meanwhile, Chloe had somehow produced a bottle of champagne. “Girls, let’s party! We got into Horizon Tech, our futures are bright!” Horizon Tech was a major player in the electronics industry, definitely a step up from the other companies recruiting on campus. I was frustrated. I gathered my courage and DM’d the advisor. “Mr. Davis, do you know why I didn’t pass?” I just wanted to know the reason. I didn’t expect him to not only ignore my direct question but also post a snarky comment in the main chat: “If you didn’t get accepted, just don’t ask. You’ll only humiliate yourself.” Confused, I slowly typed a question mark. It was like I had stepped on his tail. He unleashed a barrage of messages in our private chat: “What do you mean by that? Are you suspecting some kind of shady business?” “Don’t think you’re so great just because you have good grades. Companies look at overall soft skills.” I felt he was misunderstanding and tried to explain. But the messages kept coming: “If you’re not cut out for campus recruiting, just be a good girl and apply for an assembly line job at a factory.” “Why keep asking? What’s there to ask? Look at the time! You have zero professional etiquette!” I really didn’t get it. What time was it? Why did he post the list at this hour? I was going to swallow my pride and play nice to smooth things over. But then, he blocked me. My anger flared up. In a flash of realization, it hit me— “Chloe, why did you spam three emojis right after the list was posted?” 02 The air in the room froze for a second. “Aria, what are you trying to say?” “Are you implying that you not being on the list is because of my three emojis?” “Why did I do it? I was trying to be considerate! I was afraid you’d be heartbroken, so I tried to push the message out of sight.” “You’re biting the hand that feeds you!” The more she spoke, the more “hurt” she became, crying so hard she could barely catch her breath. “Chloe, don’t cry. Don’t let her get to you.” The dorm RA frantically handed Chloe tissues. The other two roommates also jumped to her defense. “Aria, I can’t believe you’re such a bitch. Taking out your failure on someone else.” “Exactly! Chloe even said she was going to share her champagne with you to spread the good luck.” “I don’t think you should drink it anyway. Bad vibes.” They teamed up, rolling their eyes at me. If this wasn’t a modern, science-based society, I’d seriously suspect they were possessed. Normally, we all got along great. Before every finals week, I tutored them for free. Except for Chloe, who was truly hopeless, the others barely managed to pass because of me. They always thanked me profusely: “Aria, thank god for you! You’re an absolute angel!” I didn’t expect that after three years of being an “angel,” I’d suddenly become a “bitch.” I replayed my tone from earlier in my head. It was calm, not emotional at all. Besides, I was positive the image hadn’t been in the chat for more than two seconds before her emojis pushed it up. Chloe was lying. She couldn’t have opened the image, read the list, and reacted that fast. She knew the results beforehand! I clenched my fists in anger. The RA stood up and yelled at me: “Aria, you’re definitely in the wrong here.” “But we’re all sisters. If you apologize to Chloe, she’ll forgive you.” I found it laughable. What kind of “sisters” were these? They were clearly taking her side. I couldn’t be bothered to argue further and pulled the covers over my head to sleep. But it wasn’t over. The advisor called me five times in a row, screaming the second I picked up: “Who do you think you are? How dare you bully a classmate?” “Sometimes, grades really don’t reflect a person’s character.” “I’m warning you! If you don’t apologize to Chloe, don’t even think about graduating!” He had a lot of nerve! I glanced at Chloe, who was still putting on a tearful act. Why was the advisor protecting her so fiercely? 03 The next day, I went to the career services office and got the contact info for the Horizon Tech representative. He remembered me and enthusiastically asked if I was ready to sign the internship offer letter. I was confused. I opened the group chat image and stared at it. It didn’t look Photoshopped. I hit record on my phone and asked him, “Mr. Smith, I was accepted by your company, right?” His voice rose with excitement. “Aria, you were the very first candidate we decided to accept.” I knew there was something shady going on! I immediately contacted my academic counselor. The counselor promised to investigate but stalled me for three days. During those three days, the advisor didn’t post anything in the group chat. But the other students had already quietly signed their offer letters. I was furious and stormed into the counselor’s office. She looked sympathetic and handed me a bottle of water. “You can’t really blame Mr. Davis for this. The company only wanted to hire 8 people, but because there were so many outstanding candidates, they accepted one extra. So when Mr. Davis took the screenshot, he just cropped it wrong.” Seeing I didn’t move, she shoved the water into my hand. “Don’t worry. A student as excellent as you will do just as well at any other company.” “It’s just an internship. Does it really matter where you go?” “The ultimate goal is graduation, right?” This was getting ridiculous. “Counselor, there were 9 names on that list. You expect me to believe he accidentally cropped out the very first one?” She patted my shoulder, continuing to gaslight me. “The company has already finalized the process. You need to let it go. Besides, causing a scene won’t do you any good. A major company like Horizon Tech usually only recruits from Ivy League or top-tier universities. This is their first time partnering with a state school like ours. If word gets out that there was a mistake on the acceptance list, it’ll ruin the school’s reputation.” I refused to back down: “I was supposed to be notified to sign the offer letter days ago! He clearly did it on purpose!” Seeing she couldn’t fool me, her face hardened. “Aria, why are you being so difficult?” “Even if you take this to the Dean or the President, the administration will prioritize the university’s interests.” “The best way to resolve this is to say Mr. Davis cropped the image incorrectly, and that you voluntarily declined the offer.” She shifted the blame onto me and threatened: “Don’t say I didn’t warn you. If you tarnish the university’s reputation, you won’t be graduating.” Graduation, graduation, always threatening me with graduation. I was burning with rage. Why was everyone against me? 04 When I got back to the dorm, my roommates were happily packing their bags. “Oh my god, this is great. We can apply for early departure in a few days.” Seeing me return, Chloe cleared her throat very dramatically. “Girls, let’s keep our excitement to ourselves so we don’t upset the jealous monster and have her snap at everyone.” “I heard that if we perform well during the internship at Horizon Tech, we might get full-time offers.” “It’s normal for some people to be jealous of us.” She was saying it specifically for me to hear. And I gave her the reaction she wanted. “Chloe, how do you have the nerve to show off?” As far as I knew, Horizon Tech had a cutthroat corporate culture. “With your grades? Barely passing makeup exams after begging the professors? Are you sure you can survive at Horizon Tech?” Maybe because I was usually so easygoing and rarely argued, Chloe wasn’t expecting such a strong reaction. She froze for a second, then lashed out in embarrassment and anger. “Aria, stop bringing up grades every time you open your mouth.” “Whether I survive or not, at least I got in.” “And you? You don’t even have an internship. What right do you have to put me down?” “So what if you have good grades? So what if your resume is perfect? It was all for nothing! I hate your arrogant ‘I have good grades so I’m better than everyone’ attitude!” I didn’t know she resented me that much. But back when I stayed up late designing that perfect resume, they all praised it and practically stole it to use as a template. They even had me review and edit theirs. I remembered Chloe putting a lot of false information on hers. I warned her then that getting caught lying wouldn’t be worth it. She brushed it off, saying she was just “embellishing.” But Horizon Tech’s HR department wasn’t stupid. How could they not see through her cheap tricks? Unless Horizon Tech was in on it too? Then I really was going to have to “snap at everyone.” “Chloe, since I’m such a ‘jealous monster,’ I’m going to report you to Horizon Tech right now for resume fraud.” Chloe didn’t seem scared. She smirked at me smugly. “I always knew you were a snake.” “Do you know why Horizon Tech came to our school to recruit this year?” “Because of me. I’m the reason there are 8 spots.” She paused. “If I don’t go, I can’t guarantee those other spots will still be there.” That bombshell shocked my previously silent roommates into attacking me. “Aria, we’ve been friends for years. Why are you doing something so vindictive that ruins things for everyone?” “If you dare ruin this for us, I swear I’ll curse you to get struck by lightning.” It wasn’t even raining. I grabbed the door handle to leave. My arm was yanked back by the RA, who gritted her teeth. “Aria, let it go. I can get you a job soldering circuit boards at my uncle’s factory, okay?” She acted like she was making a huge concession. “That factory pays really well.” I felt sick to my stomach. “Go work there yourself.” 05 Hearing that the 8 Horizon Tech internship spots were at risk, the advisor rushed over. “There’s another good company coming to recruit soon. I’ll give you a strong recommendation.” His expression was like he was bestowing a massive favor upon me. The counselor, who must have heard the rumors, also called me. “Aria, doing this is unfair to the other students who earned their spots.” “You need to understand, this is how the real world works. Connections matter everywhere.” “You can’t just think about your own interests. You have to look at the big picture.” Fairness? The big picture? They really thought they could walk all over me. I contacted Mr. Smith and reported Chloe for resume fraud. But Chloe didn’t seem worried at all. Not only was she partying every day, but she also completed her early departure paperwork right on schedule. On the day they were leaving campus, Mr. Smith finally replied. He said the documents had been verified and there were no issues. I found that strange. “Her fake credentials passed the initial screening?” This time, Mr. Smith didn’t reply. What was even more interesting was that in the internship group chat, the advisor stopped being sneaky about Horizon Tech info. He made a very public announcement tagging everyone: “Notice: The eight students accepted by Horizon Tech, please gather at the school gates today at 2:00 PM. The company will send a private shuttle to pick you up.” Chloe replied “Received” instantly. Then she DM’d me to gloat. “How does it feel? Have you accepted defeat?” “If you get on your knees and beg me, maybe I’ll consider bringing you along.” Ha, does she think her family owns Horizon Tech? I ignored her and headed straight for the university’s disciplinary committee. They seemed to be expecting me and deliberately stalled, much like the counselor had. Taking my statement alone took two hours. It didn’t matter. I pressed the button on the voice recorder in my pocket. I was going to take down this whole nest of rats. Walking out of the disciplinary office, I instinctively checked my phone. Chloe had posted a Snapchat story and specifically tagged me. “Just finished washing the balcony, and this crazy wind blew all my hard work away. So tragic.” The attached photo showed a floor covered in clothes, pants, and underwear, soaking in a puddle of muddy water. Coincidentally, they were all mine. Immediately following that, Chloe messaged the dorm group chat. “We’ve been roommates for years, so I helped you put the clothes back on your bed.” Wow. She didn’t even spare my bed. She had been holding this in for days just for this moment, right? I rushed back to the dorm. There wasn’t a soul in sight. I furiously took photos of the disaster on my bed, posted them on my story, and tagged a bunch of people. “What should you do when you’re bullied by roommates?” Not long after the post went up, the advisor called, demanding I delete it. “What are you trying to do? How does smearing the university benefit you?” “Aria, I’m officially notifying you: given your recent behavior, the university will not recommend you to any recruiting companies. You’re on your own for an internship.” Through the phone, besides the advisor’s vicious threats, I could also hear Chloe’s gloating laughter: “Acting so arrogant with zero backing. Truly stupid.” “A nerd who only knows how to study. Do you really think you can find an internship on your own?” “My advice for her: if you’re incompetent, just go work an assembly line at a factory.” They seemed really obsessed with forcing me to work in a factory. I didn’t have any other special skills, so I had to humbly contact my dad: “I didn’t get accepted into our subsidiary.”

After testing into the same university as my online boyfriend, he sent me a photo of a girl and asked for a breakup: “I’ve fallen in love with her. I’ll compensate you.” I laughed: “Unless she’s willing to be the side chick, I can’t let you go.” He got annoyed: “Silly girl, I’m a cheater and I’m terrible in bed. I don’t deserve you.” The funny thing was, the girl in the photo was me. He then sent me a picture of an incredibly handsome guy. “This is my roommate, the campus heartthrob. His family is rich, he’s never had a girlfriend, and he’s packing 8 inches. I’ll have him date you, okay?” I swallowed hard: “Okay, but don’t come begging for me back.” He swore: “Don’t worry, whoever begs to get back together is a dog.” But later, the usually rebellious and cool guy was wearing a collar, kneeling at my feet like a dog, crying and begging: “Please get back together with me, or let him be the main guy and I’ll be the side piece. I’m not terrible in bed, I’m a natural-born machine.” “Please?” 01 [Babe, let’s break up.] Even though this online relationship was something I could take or leave, getting a sudden breakup text from Julian was still very surprising. I called to ask him why. Julian was very honest: “I saw a freshman today. She completely fits my aesthetic, like she was tailor-made for me.” “I feel like if I can’t be with her in this life, living will have no meaning.” “So Babe, let me go. I’ll make it up to you.” I laughed: “You used to say that if you couldn’t be with me in this life, living would have no meaning.” Julian cleared his throat guiltily: “Guys say all sorts of nonsense when they’re chasing girls, but she’s different. I’m serious about her.” Serious after just seeing her? I didn’t believe a word of it. Besides, Julian and I had been dating online for a year. He was a highly intelligent straight-A student, with sharp, handsome features and eyes that naturally tilted up at the corners, looking like they had hooks in them when he wasn’t smiling. He was exactly my favorite type of bad-boy handsome. I wanted to get a taste of him before breaking up. I tried to keep him: “A lot of people also say I’m super pretty. Why don’t you look at me first before deciding?” I opened my photo album. “No need, I’ve seen your pictures. I know you’re very pretty, but you’re the mature, older-sister type. I prefer her kind of cute, sweet vibe.” My pictures are the mature type? “Julian, are you mistaken? I have nothing to do with the mature type.” Julian sent a photo. “Before, to chase you, I lied and said I didn’t care about a girl’s looks. I never video-chatted with you, and never asked you to send photos, because I had already seen you from your profile picture history.” I looked at the beautiful woman in the photo he sent, sitting on a motorcycle, wearing a black leather jacket, looking heroic and cool. But that wasn’t me; that was my actual older sister, Sarah. Julian sent another photo of me. “Let me show you my dream goddess.” “Speaking of which, you two have somewhat similar eyes, but your vibes are completely different.” “You’re beautiful and badass, looking cooler than me. If your voice didn’t suit my taste, I actually wouldn’t have chased you.” “But she’s different. Big eyes, small face, a sweet voice. She’s completely stolen my soul.” “Anyway, showing you the photo is just to say I’m serious. Don’t use her photo for anything bad.” I didn’t expect Julian to like me this much. I burst out laughing. I decided to mess with him a bit. “Unless she’s willing to be the side chick, I can’t let you go.” Julian sighed heavily: “Silly girl, I’m a cheater and I’m terrible in bed. I don’t deserve you.” Liar. He was the captain of the college basketball team, with incredible stamina and impossibly long legs. When we were on the phone, his “solo sessions” started at half an hour minimum. Just as I was about to say the second photo was me. He suddenly sent a picture of an incredibly handsome guy. “This is my roommate, the campus heartthrob, Liam. His family is rich, he’s never had a girlfriend, and he’s packing 8 inches. I’ll have him date you, okay?” The Liam in the photo had pale skin and red lips, with a high nose bridge. He was wearing a clean, neat white button-down shirt. The fingers holding the pen were long and slender, the nails neatly trimmed. Sitting at a desk bathed in sunlight, he looked like a piece of clear, flawless jade. My heart skipped a beat. And it was that skipped beat that made me realize. I didn’t really have a favorite type of handsome guy. I was just shallow. Besides, I hadn’t met a guy I felt stronger about right now. I might as well try dating Liam. But. “Will he really date me?” “He will. We’re best friends. If he dares not to date you, I’ll put a knife to his neck.” I laughed: “Okay then, but don’t come begging for me back.” Julian swore: “Don’t worry, whoever begs to get back together is a dog.” Heh. Did he think I would beg to get back together? I used to date online secretly because my parents were strict about my studies. Now that I was admitted to UCLA, my family supported me dating. I couldn’t wait to date all the handsome guys. I would never go back to an ex. “Which university are you at? I’ve given Liam your Snapchat. I’ll have him ask you out tomorrow.” Before, to surprise Julian, I only said I was studying in California, I didn’t specify UCLA. But there was no point in hiding it now. I was just about to say it. “Forget it, you guys chat yourselves. I need to prepare things to confess to the sweet girl tomorrow. Bye.” Julian hung up the phone. Immediately after, Liam sent a friend request on Snapchat. 02 But I played hard to get and didn’t tap [Accept]. Today, on move-in day, someone took a picture of me and put it on the campus forum, causing a minor sensation. The next day, during freshman orientation, many people came specifically to see me. Among them was Julian. He stood in front of me holding a huge bouquet of red roses and three hard-to-get Sonny Angel blind box figures. He was direct: “Hello, Mia. I’m Julian from the Computer Science department, a junior this year. I fell in love with you at first sight. Will you be my girlfriend?” I looked closely at Julian. To be honest, he was even more handsome than in his photos. The faint outline of his abs under his black t-shirt, the bulging muscles and twisting veins on his arms. He practically radiated sexual tension. The surrounding students started cheering: “Say yes! Say yes! This is Julian, the Computer Science god, the face of the school! Usually, it’s girls chasing him to confess!” “I never thought I’d see the day Julian begged for love. Seeing how he avoided women before, giving off total unattainable vibes, I used to lament that he was wasting all that good hardware.” When Julian and I dated online, he was full of dirty talk, nothing like “unattainable.” I was amused by the students’ silly comments. Julian mistakenly thought I was satisfied with him. He revealed a winning smile. “Sorry, I don’t want to date you.” Julian’s smile froze on his face. The cheering students also went silent. The scene was very awkward. “Why?” Because you just broke up with me last night and even set me up with a high-quality match. But I didn’t say that. I waited for him to find out himself. When we first met in a game, he liked my sweet voice, and I liked his good looks. To spend more time with him, I pretended to be a bad student, always pestering him to tutor me. He was also very patient, not only teaching me how to solve problems but also frequently sending me money, showing off his boyfriend material. But I didn’t expect that right when we could meet in person, he changed his mind and broke up. Since he wasn’t really invested in me, I wouldn’t call him a jerk. “I already have someone I’m interested in.” “So you’re not dating yet? Then give me a chance to pursue you, okay? I will definitely treat you better than that guy.” “No, I have no interest in you.” Julian looked embarrassed. Someone in the crowd gasped in disbelief. “But you’re the only one for me. I won’t give up on you. Please accept these gifts.” Those Sonny Angels were really cute. But I didn’t want to get tangled up with Julian. I shook my head and refused. Julian tried to force me to take them: “If you don’t take them, I’ll throw them in the trash.” “Then throw them.” I don’t know if Julian threw them or not. I took my roommate Chloe’s arm and walked away without looking back. Chloe: “You’re so fierce, daring to reject Julian in public.” “It’s fine. I’m just using him to warn off the guys looking to confess to me, so I don’t have just any guy coming up to me.” “That’s true. I saw on the campus forum that many guys were talking about coming to confess to you.” Speaking of which, I remembered Liam. I accepted his friend request and agreed to have dinner with him. 03 In the restaurant. Liam was sitting at a window seat. Seeing me sit across from him, his eyes lit up, then he froze. I smiled at him: “I’m the girlfriend Julian introduced to you, Babe.” “Are you curious why I look different from the photo?” Liam said “Yeah,” his voice deep and pleasant. Seeing me staring straight at him, his ears suddenly turned completely red. He used drinking water to cover up his shyness and nervousness. I was surprised. And a little troubled. I didn’t expect there to be such pure guys these days. I kinda didn’t want to date him anymore. After all, I was just in it for physical fun, not emotional connection. But he was really attractive. And his lips were red and soft, looking very kissable. Sigh. I’ll let him choose himself. “So do you want to date me, or do you want to date the girl in the photo?” “If it’s the girl in the photo, I can introduce you.” “You.” Liam didn’t hesitate. Then he couldn’t blame me. After all, he might not be emotionally invested in me either. Or like Julian, he might be invested for a while, and then change his mind. So whatever, let’s just enjoy the moment first. “Julian said you have 8 inches, is that true?” “I’m not talking about age.” I asked bluntly. Liam suddenly stiffened. He turned bright red. He couldn’t speak for a long time. I frowned: “Do you not? If you don’t, then I won’t date you.” Liam looked around and whispered: “I do.” “Can I see?” “R-right now?” “Well, no, let’s wait until we finish eating.” Liam nodded, the blush on his face deepening. He handed me the menu. Seeing it was my first time there, he thoughtfully recommended the restaurant’s specialties. Halfway through the meal, Julian called Liam. The volume was quite loud, I heard it all. Julian: “Did you meet Babe?” Liam: “Yeah.” “I didn’t lie, right? She’s very pretty, isn’t she?” “Yeah.” “Then you date Babe properly. It’s best if you give her all your free time, don’t let her have time to think of me. That Mia is harder to chase than I thought. I have to really figure out how to get her, I don’t have the energy to deal with Babe.” “Yeah.” “Thanks, having you is really my blessing. I’ll treat you to a big meal tomorrow.” “No need, I’m eating right now, hanging up.” “Okay.” Liam put down his phone. I suddenly remembered something: “Do you know my name?” Liam paused for a few seconds: “I don’t.” “My name is…” “Sorry.” Liam suddenly interrupted me, “I need to go to the restroom.” Liam walked away quite hurriedly after saying that. Like he couldn’t hold it in. I continued eating. By the time Liam came back, I had forgotten to tell him my name. After leaving the restaurant, Liam offered to get a hotel room. Me!! 04 Did I misjudge him? He’s actually this open! Liam seemed to see through my thoughts and hurriedly explained: “Don’t misunderstand, I don’t want to have that kind of relationship with you.” “You can inspect the goods first. I didn’t lie to you. I want you to feel secure being my girlfriend.” Oh, so that’s it. But suddenly having to look at that, it’s pretty awkward. “Can we wait a few days? Getting a room just to look at that seems like a waste of money.” “As long as it makes you feel secure, the money isn’t wasted. Besides, I have a lot of money.” Liam was very insistent. I felt he really was too innocent. And exceptionally considerate of others. I agreed to him. Afterward. A blushing Liam looked at a blushing me. “I’m very traditional.” “I’ve shown you my most important thing. From now on, no matter what happens, you can’t break up with me.” My mind was entirely filled with how it was so… Would it really feel that good to use… I completely didn’t hear what Liam was saying and just vaguely agreed, saying “Okay.” Liam was very happy and took me back to school. Right before reaching the dorm building, I saw a couple making out in the distance. I stopped and asked Liam: “Can I kiss you?” “You can.” Liam, with red ears, cupped my face, lowered his head, and gently kissed my lips. And quickly separated. He seemed very nervous. Even his fingers were trembling slightly. He looked incredibly cute. And his lips were so sweet and soft. A light touch like that was definitely not enough to satisfy my craving. “Can we kiss a little longer? A little harder?” “I’ll try, but it’s my first time kissing someone. If I hurt you, remember to tell me.” “Mhmm.” Liam lowered his head to kiss me again. This time was okay. It’s just that he didn’t use his tongue. Just as I was about to pry open his teeth. Julian’s shocked voice suddenly came from behind. “Liam! Babe?” Liam and I both froze. Liam pulled me into his embrace, letting my face bury into his chest. His hand was also touching my face, seemingly intentionally blocking it. But I didn’t have time to think about it. My thoughts were entirely stolen by his wildly beating heart. Just one kiss, and his heartbeat was this erratic. Then wouldn’t that mean… I was immersed in dirty thoughts. Julian walked over step by step, saying happily: “You brought Babe to campus to hang out.” Uh. It seemed Julian really didn’t expect that I, the “bad student,” could study here. Liam’s voice was cold: “Why are you here?” “I came to give Mia something.” “Congratulations, you guys got together so fast.” Liam gave a very faint “Yeah.” Julian looked at my back and asked with a smile: “Babe, you’ve been hiding in Liam’s arms this whole time. Are you shy because I saw you kissing? Aren’t you going to say hi to me?” I wasn’t shy. And I could definitely say hi. So, feeling mischievous, I turned around and smiled at Julian.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “409916”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I am the untouchable “first love” to a group of rich, arrogant bad boys in a dark romance novel. Because the innocent, naive female lead looked a bit like me, they bullied and humiliated her, treating her like a plaything until she was crying every single day. When I returned to the country, they were suddenly worried I would bully her, and ran over to warn me to back off. I was just planning to stay far away from them, far away from everything. But one of them pinned me into a corner, his eyes dark and obsessive: “Do you know why we all liked her? Because the untouchable moon that can finally be defiled… is the cutest.” “Letting us hold her, kiss her, and…” He leaned close to my ear to whisper that last word. 01 I am the untouchable “first love” to a group of rich, arrogant bad boys in a dark romance novel. They treated me like the moon in the sky, holding me high on a pedestal, desperately yearning for my affection. Until I went abroad to study, and they found a poor, innocent girl who looked about thirty percent like me. Timid, soft-spoken, and from a struggling family. As if they had found a new source of twisted amusement, they poured all their dark, long-hidden malice onto her. But then… At some point, the malice and affection began to blur together. … I jolted awake from the dream. Covered in cold sweat. This time, I had finally dreamed of the story’s ending. Tomorrow was the day I was scheduled to return to the States. And this group of boys, upon my return, would waver between me and the female lead, yet they never stopped bullying her. Until the male lead finally felt a pang of sympathy for the pitiful girl, using threats and coercion to kidnap her and lock her away in a gilded cage. Only then did the group of bad boys realize their true feelings and begin to feel profound regret. And everyone blamed the entire mess on me. Later. My family went bankrupt. I fell terminally ill. I foolishly thought they would consider our past friendship and lend me money for treatment. I even swore, “I never wanted to bother you guys, I just… I’m dying.” But they rejected me with haughty disdain, “If it weren’t for you, we wouldn’t have lost her.” Until one of them grabbed my wrist, thin down to the bone, his eyes dark and murky, “You want money? Trade yourself for it. “After all… the untouchable moon that can finally be defiled is the cutest.” 02 But I couldn’t see the face of the boy who trapped me at the end. I didn’t know which of the four it was. In the quiet night, only my heart pounded wildly. Just then, the fully charged old phone I kept emitted a notification chime. I looked down and unlocked it. Messages in a group chat were refreshing rapidly: [The little munchkin’s birthday is tomorrow. What are you guys getting her?] [Duh, the reward is she gets to hang out with me for the whole day!] [? Psycho, back off. You want to hog her all to yourself? Do you think we’re dead?] [She’s been avoiding me these past few days. Let’s take her to The Viper Room tomorrow. Disobedient little kittens need to be taught a lesson.] [Tsk, don’t break her. But I gotta admit, it’s pretty hot when she cries.] A moment later, someone suddenly chimed in the chat. [Serena is coming back tomorrow.] The chaotic group chat went silent for a good while before someone replied: [Then you guys take the little munchkin out tomorrow.] [Holy shit, been having so much fun messing with the little munchkin these past two days I totally forgot about that. I need to go see Serena too. I’ll make it up to the munchkin for her birthday later, alright?] … [But with her crybaby personality, won’t she be heartbroken?] [So annoying. I’ve never met anyone so high-maintenance.] [Whatever. I’ll text Serena. We’ll throw her a welcome-back party in a few days.] As soon as that message was sent, my other phone received a text from Cole: [Serena! You’re finally coming back! Missed you to death. But we have a robotics competition these next few days. We’ll throw you a welcome-back party in a few days, cool?] I replied instantly: [Sure.] After I replied, the other phone started buzzing with messages again: [Ok, Serena agreed. Keep the munchkin company for her birthday tomorrow.] [Fuck, I pushed off seeing Serena for her, she better let me hold her and touch her good tomorrow.] [Don’t scare her, she’s so timid.] In the final seconds before the plane took off, I turned off my internet. Unable to receive new messages, I scrolled up to read the previous chat history. Two months ago, their chat logs looked like this: [I miss Serena so much… I just ruined a photo of her, do you guys have any extras?] [Idiot. It’s Serena’s misfortune that you like her.] [She’s coming back in two months.] [Oh right. I’ll try to hold on a bit longer. When she gets back, I’m going to have my dad propose an arranged marriage. God, I keep dreaming about her in my arms calling me ‘hubby’.] [? Do you even deserve her? Arranged marriage? If you get hit by a car and die tomorrow, she can just visit your grave. That’s enough.] Then they started arguing again, throwing around every dirty word in the book, even threatening to fight each other. And shortly after that chat. Their conversation started centering around a codename. “The little munchkin.” At first, they complained that she was stupid, that she cried too much, that she was a hassle and annoying to look at. They said she was doing stupid things while wearing a face that looked like mine. They said they needed to teach her a lesson. Later on. The tone changed. It was like immature boys bullying the girl they liked just to get her attention. My heart sank to the bottom of my stomach as I read. I schemed in my head, how could I make them stop wavering between me and the female lead, and firmly choose her? As long as they didn’t hurt the female lead because of me, there wouldn’t be that whole series of “regretful bad boy” events later on, right? —An arranged marriage. As long as I entered into an arranged marriage with someone else, they would completely give up. 03 After getting off the plane, I was waiting for an Uber. The other phone started vibrating wildly again. Bored while waiting, I opened it to look. Cole tagged Julian: [Bro, aren’t you going to the munchkin’s birthday? She likes you the most.] [Yeah.] [Don’t tell me you’re sneaking off to see Serena behind our backs?] [I have things to do.] [Fine, whatever. Tsk, the munchkin’s true feelings are wasted on you. I’m going to make sure she knows who really likes her the most, so she stops throwing herself at you every day.] Julian didn’t reply again. There were five people in this group chat, including me. This account was an alt that Cole used in high school to hide from his parents and play games. There was a time when he was grounded and couldn’t get his phone, so he begged me to do his daily game quests for him. He just gave me the login info to make it easier. In this alt account, besides the gaming group, there was only this group chat with the five of them. The group creator was Cole’s main account, and I knew the other three as well. I originally didn’t want to pry too much into the kids’ privacy, but a message popped up: [Serena got even prettier. Love it.] My eyelid twitched, and I couldn’t control myself from clicking into the chat. And then I saw a lot of… fanatical comments. Cole was the worst. I scrolled through several pages of chat logs in silence. My mood was inexplicably complex. I couldn’t decide whether Cole had genuinely forgotten this group existed on his alt account, or if it was intentional. Intentional so that I would see it. I had only managed the account for a few days, then found Julian, who posted the most normal things in the group, and sent him a voice message, trying to sound as normal as possible: “Julian, Cole asked me to do his game quests a few days ago, but I’m too busy lately. Tell him for me, or you guys can just do them for him.” Julian was silent for a few seconds before calmly saying, “Okay.” After that, I actively avoided Cole a bit, but he just clung to me even more. After that incident, I happened to get a new phone, so I never logged into that WeChat account again. Until I went abroad. The old phone had some backups on it, so I just brought it with me. Two months ago, while digging through my things, a message notification popped up, and that’s when I took a look. I guess Cole had forgotten about this account too; he never logged in again, and it just stayed on my phone. It seemed this alt account was just a tool—once he was done with it, he didn’t need it anymore. … I reeled in my messy thoughts. I looked up and saw a familiar, yet somewhat unfamiliar figure. The boy stood in the shadows just ahead, his figure tall and lean. He was much taller than before, his features more defined. His expression was unreadable, but his dark eyes were fixed on me. I froze, instinctively taking a step back. Seeing that I recognized him, he took a step forward with his long legs and took my suitcase with his slender hand. “I’ll take you home.” I looked down. My Uber driver hadn’t moved from his spot on the map. I hesitated for a moment, then cancelled the ride. I followed Julian’s pace. The moonlight illuminated his striking brow bone, straight nose, and the shadows cast by his thick, long eyelashes. Compared to his previous boyishness, his current stunning appearance made me stare at his profile for a long time. It wasn’t until we got in the car and it started driving smoothly. It was already past midnight; it was technically the next day. I subtly probed, “Cole texted me saying you guys had a robotics competition today. Picking me up this late, don’t you need to rest up?” The corners of Julian’s mouth curled up in an almost imperceptible arc. I couldn’t tell if it was indifference or mockery. “No need,” he said casually. I wasn’t giving up. “By the way, I heard from some friends that you guys have been really close with a girl lately?” He glanced at me sideways and gave a noncommittal “Mhm.” No explanation, no further answer. I suppressed the annoyance rising in my chest. Seeing that he didn’t want to talk about it, I didn’t press further. It wasn’t until the car pulled up to my apartment building that Julian, without waiting for me to speak, went straight to grab my suitcase from the trunk. The words “It’s fine, there’s an elevator” got stuck in my throat. 04 After getting inside, before I even had a chance to turn on the lights. The sound of the door closing echoed. Julian suddenly spoke: “They all really like that girl lately.” I was stunned for a moment, then gave a slow “Oh.” I know. “She looks a bit like you.” “…” I know that too. “Aren’t you curious? Why they liked you so much at first, but now they’ve switched to her.” I carefully chose my words: “Well, it’s hard to explain why people like things.” The apartment was dark; the only light came from the moonlight streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows in the living room. The boy in front of me slowly closed the distance between us. The corners of his lips were turned up in an innocent smile, but the darkness between his brows was unmistakable. “Do you know what they want to do? Let them hold her, kiss her, and…” He leaned close to my ear to whisper that last word. I went rigid. Only the hot breath against my ear made me shiver. This guy, who I thought was the most well-behaved and aloof of them all, was now pinning me against the door, saying inexplicable things. He didn’t even step back after speaking; there was almost no space between us. I opened my mouth, speaking unnaturally: “…As long as you guys like her.” “Why are you sweating?” Julian’s fingertips brushed against my forehead, which was glistening with a thin layer of sweat. I wanted to dodge, but realized my back was already pressed flat against the door. The sudden ringing of a phone shattered the early morning silence. Julian answered the phone expressionlessly. Cole’s voice came through clearly. “Hello? I thought you weren’t going to pick up. You’re not asleep yet?” “Just say what you want.” A flash of impatience crossed the boy’s dark eyes. “Oh, tonight Tristan went looking for the munchkin. That animal! He looks all polite and refined, but he ended up bullying the munchkin until she cried. Now she’s throwing a fit and saying she won’t let us celebrate her birthday.” Julian: “So?” Cole sighed. “We need you to come coax her.” “Me? Now?” “Yeah. At The Viper Room.” Hearing their conversation, I let out a massive sigh of relief and mouthed to Julian: Go coax her. Julian’s dark eyes stared straight at me. For some reason, the atmosphere around us seemed to drop a few degrees. After a long moment, he turned his head and said into the phone, “Fine.” After he hung up, I felt a weight lift off my shoulders. “Drive safe on your way there.” Julian smirked: “You wouldn’t care even if I died on the way there, would you.” His tone was calm, and he gave me one last, deep look before leaving. 05 I slumped onto the sofa. I patted my chest. Trying hard to calm my emotions. Knowing I was destined to be a tragic side character, I could no longer treat them like younger brothers, coddling and spoiling them like I did before I left. I even couldn’t help but feel a sense of rejection and distance towards them. I looked sideways at the night view outside the floor-to-ceiling window. Because of me, they and the innocent female lead had a tempestuous, angsty romance. So if I just wandered around in front of them… If I just found a high-quality guy for an arranged marriage, wouldn’t everything be solved? And… I had planned on an arranged marriage before I went abroad, but back then, they were in high school—a bunch of rebellious kids afraid of nothing—and who knows how many of my blind dates they sabotaged. So the arranged marriage thing kept getting put on hold. Now that they have a new obsession, my smooth transition into an arranged marriage should be a piece of cake, right? I sighed inwardly, picked up my phone, and started scrolling through the photos my dad had sent me. I picked out a few good-looking ones. Until I saw the last photo, and I was silent for a long time. [Why is Alexander here? Isn’t he notoriously uninterested in women and opposed to arranged marriages?] After sending the message, I realized it was past midnight. The old man was probably asleep. I suppressed my curiosity, washed up, and flopped onto my bed. When I was scrolling through Instagram before sleeping, the newest post was from Cole. I tapped to enlarge it. A petite, cute girl stood among four tall, handsome guys. Her cheeks were slightly flushed, her almond eyes shimmering. She was wearing a pale yellow mini skirt that showed off her straight, pale legs. In front of them was a table lined with expensive liquor. Except for Julian on the far left, I hadn’t seen the other three boys in a long time. Cole, Tristan, and Mason. They had all grown up. Even though everyone except Julian was smiling, there was still a sense of intimidating presence. Intimidating presence? Blame the damn plot for making me feel intimidated by a bunch of kids. I sighed, liked the post, and kept scrolling. I didn’t expect that a few minutes later, Cole’s post would be gone. I felt a strange sense of unease. At that moment, my other phone started blowing up with notifications. Cole: [Holy shit, Serena liked my post.] Tristan: [What, do you still have feelings for Serena?] Cole: [No way. How is that possible? The munchkin would cry her eyes out. Am I the kind of guy who changes his mind so easily?] Tristan: [Who knows.] Cole: [I’m warning you, Tristan, stop playing the good guy with the munchkin and saying shit you shouldn’t to stir up trouble. I have absolutely zero interest in Serena now.] Mason: [Then why did you delete the post?] Cole: [I was afraid Serena would see it and do something to the munchkin! After all, the munchkin is poor and easily scared. Anyone could bully her.] Is this the power of the main characters and the plot? A few months ago, I was the most beautiful, kindest, and most forgiving ‘Serena.’ Now, without having done anything, I’m suddenly going to bully someone? I was completely speechless. Let the world burn. A moment later, Cole posted again: [I’m being serious. If Serena comes back and finds out no one likes her anymore, she won’t go crazy, will she? If she dares to hurt the munchkin, I’ll make her pay.] I stared at that sentence and laughed out of sheer annoyance. Aren’t they taking themselves a bit too seriously? Tristan: [I’ll protect Mia.] Cole: [Stop pretending! I can protect her perfectly well by myself!] Mason: [So are we still throwing that welcome-back party for Serena?] Cole: [Yeah, why wouldn’t we? I also need to parade the munchkin in front of her to show the munchkin I’ve got her back.] I numbly locked my phone screen. I lay in bed. My heart throbbed with a dull ache, accompanied by a trace of confusion. I clearly… hadn’t done anything. After a long time, I did a sit-up and texted my dad: [Alexander. I want to meet him for dinner today.] Alexander was Cole’s older brother. Before I left, I thought he was a perfect candidate for an arranged marriage. But rumor had it he was completely closed off to women in his private life, so I gave up on the idea at the time. If I could actually secure an arranged marriage with Alexander… Wouldn’t the others finally be able to peacefully love the female lead? 06 It was already afternoon when I woke up. My dad had sent me a voice memo: “Alex? His family is pushing him to get married. You two should test the waters. But let me be clear, if he ultimately refuses, there’s nothing I can do.” Then he sent me the restaurant address. “Tonight at six. Don’t be late.” I got ready and went to the restaurant. Alexander was already seated in the private room. He was wearing a crisp, fitted white dress shirt, his posture impeccable. Seeing me enter, he gave a slight nod. His pitch-black eyes were cold and distant. A completely different style from Cole. After I sat down, I took the menu from the waiter and smiled brightly, trying to strike up a conversation with Alexander: “I’ve heard so much about you, Mr. Vance. Do you have any dietary restrictions?” “My brother likes you.” Alexander, legs crossed, stated this calmly. I paused. I met his scrutinizing gaze. “Really?” I smiled. “I wasn’t aware. But kids’ crushes come and go.” He tapped his knuckles on the table. “I remember you and Cole and the others being pretty close?” Alexander’s voice was cold, and his overwhelming presence was suffocating. Especially with that interrogating tone. Did he think I was his subordinate? I closed the menu, my smile fading slightly. “Does that have anything to do with why we’re here today?” Silence filled the room for a few seconds. “No,” he said, then handed the menu to the waiter. “The usual.” I ordered a few random dishes, stood up, and said to Alexander, “Excuse me for a moment.” … On the way back from the restroom, I was full of annoyance. I didn’t even realize someone had grabbed me until a second later. “…Julian?” I looked in astonishment at the person holding me. The boy lowered his eyes, looking down at me. “Why are you here?” “Business,” I deflected. “This place is for banquets and parties. Who are you eating with?” His long fingers gripped my wrist tightly. I paused. Although it looked like Alexander and I weren’t going to work out, that didn’t mean I would let my blind dates get sabotaged like before. My expression hardened when I heard a familiar voice and a girl’s giggle. I quickly pulled Julian into an empty private room nearby. In the darkness, every breath felt amplified. “Afraid to see Cole?” he asked. “No, if they saw us together, it would be hard to explain.” I kept my voice low. “Besides, what if the girl you like sees us?” The breathing of the person next to me suddenly grew heavy. I went “Ah.” “What are you guys doing here? When are you leaving?” After I spoke, I remembered. They were celebrating a birthday. Julian ignored my questions. “There’s no sound out there. They probably went into their room.” I listened carefully for a moment, and only when I was sure it was quiet did I open the door. Then I started walking towards my room. “You should hurry back to them. Don’t keep them waiting.” Right as I was about to push the door open, I realized Julian had quietly followed me the whole way. Me: ? I was annoyed and speechless. “What are you doing? Are you stalking me?” The next second, I heard laughter from inside the room— Cole chuckled: “Little munchkin, let me introduce you. This is my older brother. I’ll generously allow you to call him ‘brother’ too.” A soft, sweet girl’s voice: “…Hello, brother.” Alexander’s flat voice: “Hello.” “Bro, what are you doing here? Having dinner with some girl? Is she my future sister-in-law?” After Cole finished his joke, a burst of laughter erupted from the room. Until Tristan’s voice broke through: “Where’s Julian? Didn’t he go to the room we reserved?” Cole’s voice got closer to the door. “Whatever, I’ll go find him and tell him to come toast my brother.” As the footsteps approached, my heart stopped. I turned sideways, wanting to leave. But it was too late. I could only watch helplessly as the door was pulled open, and the bright light from the room spilled out. Instantly, dead silence.

My mother called me, crying, “Are you not going to care about this family anymore?” “Your brother is bewitched by some vixen and is insisting on breaking his engagement.” “Your father went to take care of your grandmother, and ended up in bed with her caretaker.” “Your grandmother is taking your father’s side, supporting his cheating, and kicked me out of the house.” “Should I just die so you can all be happy?” Hanging up the phone, I instructed my executive assistant, “Push my schedule back. I have a personal matter to handle.” My assistant replied, “Understood, boss. How many days should I clear for you?” “Three days will be plenty,” I said. Any longer and it would mean my methods weren’t ruthless enough! 01 After a three-hour flight home, only my mother was there. The moment she saw me, her face dropped, and the first thing out of her mouth was, “So you finally decided to come back?” I glanced at her, ignoring the remark, and spoke directly to Mrs. Foster, our housekeeper, who came to greet me. “Have someone take my luggage to my room. When my brother gets back, tell him to wait. I’ll see him after I sleep.” Mrs. Foster was respectful. “Yes, ma’am.” “Victoria, am I talking to you or are you deaf?” Unwilling to be ignored, my mother stepped in front of me, blocking my path. “Fine, both of you are completely ignoring me now!” “That deadbeat father of yours, and you! You’re all plotting a rebellion!” Forced to stop, I looked at my hysterical mother and told her, “To make time to come back and handle family matters, I pulled an all-nighter working. Unless you have something of critical importance, do not waste my sleeping time.” “What kind of attitude is that?” she shrieked. “I am your mother! Not your subordinate! Are you speaking to me with a tone of command?” She was very loud. I frowned, suppressing the irritation rising within me. “Alright, Mother. I’ll give you two choices right now. One, you can continue to hound me and discuss my ‘attitude problem.’ I guarantee I will turn right around and go back to work, washing my hands of all family matters completely. Two, please stay quiet, and whatever you have to say, wait until I wake up.” “Did you understand?” “If you understood, can you step aside?” “You, you!” My mother pointed her finger at my nose, stammering over the word “you.” The word rolled around in her mouth several times but never quite made it out. Instead, it morphed into pitiful, stammering sobs. “Ugh… what sin did I commit in a past life? How did I raise such an ungrateful wolf!” Despite her cursing, she hadn’t forgotten my temper and that I always do what I say. Afraid I would actually walk away, she obediently sat back down on the sofa, not daring to block me again. I headed upstairs to my bedroom. I needed a shower, and then, a good sleep. I had been up all night. I was exhausted! 02 Two hours later, my alarm woke me up. Mrs. Foster told me, “Young master has been waiting for half an hour.” I freshened up a bit and went downstairs to see my brother. “Sis, why did you come back? You’re just in time, I want to break my engagement with Claire.” My brother was sitting cross-legged on the sofa, playing a video game. The coffee table in front of him was covered with cut fruit and unopened snacks. My mother was attentively peeling an orange, feeding him segment by segment. “Why do you want to break the engagement?” I sat down, cutting straight to the point. “Why else?” My brother ate the orange while intensely focused on his game, too busy to even look at me. “Claire and I are not on the same path. We have nothing in common.” “Alex,” I called his name calmly, without much inflection, but giving him a clear warning, “I’ll give you two seconds to put away your phone and talk to me properly.” My brother stole a glance at me. I raised my eyelids, shooting him a cold stare. He shivered, turned off his phone, shoved it in his pocket, and muttered unhappily, “Fine, I won’t play then.” “But seriously, Sis, I’m not joking. Since you’re back, hurry up and break the engagement for me, so my girlfriend doesn’t get jealous.” “Your girlfriend?” I prompted. He immediately perked up. Without waiting for me to ask more, he eagerly continued, “That’s right, Sis. My new girlfriend is Mia. She’s gentle, considerate, and caters to my every whim.” “Claire just has a better family background than Mia. She always has a cold face and expects me to coax her, acting like she’s some kind of princess. I’m not putting up with that.” “Sis, I’m saying this upfront: I have someone I like. If you all force me to marry Claire, don’t blame me for running away from home.” “Don’t say such things!” My mother patted him lightly, soothing him anxiously, “Your sister didn’t say she wouldn’t support you, right, Vicky?” She started right off the bat by forcing an awkward nickname on me, which sounded incredibly uncomfortable. I swallowed my disgust and instructed my brother, “Bring your girlfriend home tomorrow so I can meet her.” He was stunned, thinking he had misheard. Once he realized what I said, he jumped three feet in the air with joy. “Okay! Sis, I’ll bring Mia home tomorrow. Don’t worry, I bet you’ll definitely like her.” Overjoyed, my brother went to find his girlfriend. Mrs. Foster asked if I wanted to dine now. I replied, “Yes.” The dishes were brought to the table one by one. As I moved to the dining room, my mother followed. “That Mia girl went behind your brother’s back straight to Claire, sowing discord between them while urging your brother to break the engagement.” “Your brother is just naive and can’t see her tricks. That woman is definitely not to be underestimated.” Speaking of Mia, my mother glared fiercely, with nothing good to say. I found it amusing and asked her, “Then why didn’t you say that in front of Alex just now?” My mother choked, her eyes darting away. I slowly scooped a spoonful of porridge, put it in my mouth, and bluntly pierced her little scheme. “So, you wanted to play the good guy in front of Alex and push me out to be the bad guy?” Her expression stiffened, and she stubbornly argued, “I was afraid you didn’t understand the situation, so I specifically reminded you!” “Well, thank you very much,” I said sarcastically. “I don’t like beating around the bush. You might as well just tell me what you’re thinking directly. That way, I won’t get the wrong idea and get your hopes up for nothing.” Hearing this, my mother immediately forgot her awkwardness and started issuing commands: “The engagement cannot be broken. You cannot let your brother be foolish.” “The Miller family is small potatoes; they can’t compare to the Davis family.” “That Mia doesn’t know her place, thinking she can be my daughter-in-law. Does she think she’s worthy?!” “Your brother is just excited right now. We’ll humor him and let him play around for a couple of years, as long as he doesn’t marry her.” “As for the Davis family, you find a way to placate them.” “Tell Claire to change her attitude. She shouldn’t think that just because she’s a Davis, she can look down on her fiancé. Besides her family background, how is she worthy of my son?” “For a family of our standing, what’s the big deal if your brother has a girlfriend or two on the outside?” “Family harmony is the most important thing. If Claire knows what’s good for her, she should turn a blind eye and not be petty and small-minded.” I asked her, “Are you done?” My mother was dissatisfied with my interruption, but since she had said her piece, she generously didn’t argue with me, only adding, “That’s about it. As his sister, you should be more involved in your brother’s affairs. Did you listen to what I just said?” I stretched my lips into a fake smile. “Of course.” “Good,” my mother said, issuing her final directive with satisfaction. “When Mia comes tomorrow, there’s no need to be polite. Otherwise, she’ll really think our family is easy to marry into!” 03 Early the next morning, Mia came visiting with two boxes of tea leaves. She said the tea was specially picked and gifted to her by the villagers when she was doing volunteer teaching in a rural area, representing a heart of gold. “Auntie, Victoria, the old tea trees in the mountains are over a hundred years old. Although the tea isn’t famous, the taste is definitely good.” Accepting the gift, we expressed our thanks. My mother, who had sworn not to be polite to Mia, received the gift she despised and politely said, “That’s very thoughtful.” Only when she buried her head to drink her own expensive tea did the undisguised disgust spill from the corner of her eyes. “Auntie, you take such good care of yourself!” Mia familiarly sat next to my mother, her eyes curving in a warm smile. “If I saw you and Alex shopping together, I would definitely misunderstand and think he was secretly dating a new girlfriend. You look so young!” “Really?” my mother said nonchalantly. “Just good genes. I don’t need any special care.” “Come on, Mom, you really know how to pretend,” my brother said, holding up a hand to show a number. “You spend at least this much on skincare every year.” With the lie exposed on the spot, my mother couldn’t save face. She glared at my brother, preparing to scold him. Mia beat her to it, raising her voice, putting on a stern face, and seriously reprimanding him: “Alex! Watch how you speak! Apologize to Auntie right now!” In front of my mother, my brother always had to assert his dominance. He was used to acting entitled; how could he possibly apologize? Seeing him refuse to apologize, Mia put her hands on her hips and glared. “You’re not even listening to me now, are you? Fine! Let’s see if I ever pay attention to you again!” My brother pouted, helplessly conceding, “Yes, yes, yes. The Queen has ordered, how dare I not listen? I apologize to Mom. Mom, I’m sorrrry~~” My mother’s face turned green then pale. She wanted to lose her temper but was afraid of upsetting my brother. She wanted to keep up her fake smile, but she was so angry inside she couldn’t actually smile. Consequently, her expression was fractured and quite spectacular. Seeing my brother yield, a hint of smugness flashed across Mia’s face. She hugged my mother’s arm, saying affectionately, “Auntie, if Alex ever makes you unhappy, just tell me. I’ll teach him a lesson for you.” Killing someone’s spirit—that’s what this was. My mother was so angry her hair was practically standing on end, yet she had to force herself to remain composed. Mia brazenly showed off how love-struck my brother was over her, feeling very pleased with herself. Drinking my coffee, I thought this little drama deserved a return gift. I took her to the walk-in closet, pointed to a wall of unopened designer bags, and said, “I only got back yesterday and was tight on time, so I didn’t prepare a gift for you. See if you like any of these bags. Pick whatever you want as a welcome gift.” Looking at the wall of bags, Mia’s eyes went wide. She feigned politeness: “Thank you, Victoria, but these bags are too expensive. I couldn’t possibly.” She probably thought I would exchange pleasantries, go back and forth, and finally insist on giving her a bag. Instead, I said cleanly, “You’re right. I wasn’t being thoughtful enough. Never mind then.” Mia’s expression almost cracked. She forced a dry laugh, “T-thank you, Victoria.” I smiled, waved my hand, and generously said, “You’re welcome.” 04 I don’t judge people based on hearsay. My judgment of a person comes only from my own observation and understanding. If my brother hadn’t developed feelings for Claire and wanted to break the engagement, I accepted that. If the girlfriend he was seeing had a background lesser than the Davis family, as long as her character was fine, I could accept that too. However, after meeting Mia, I didn’t intend to support his decision. Mia’s outfit was clearly carefully chosen, yet her style exuded a certain cheapness that I disliked. When she spoke to people, her eyes were busy evaluating, her mind busy scheming, and her face couldn’t hide her manipulation. I disliked that. She tried to befriend people through flattery and fawning. I disliked that. She was used to using physical contact to close the distance and eliminate unfamiliarity. I disliked that. She tried to elevate her own status by showing off her control over my brother, faintly displaying a sense of provocation. I disliked that. When she refused the bag I offered, and I immediately agreed to take it back, I clearly saw the disappointment she couldn’t hide. I disliked that. But I didn’t show my dislike on my face. Instead, right as Mia was leaving, in front of her, I instructed my brother, “Come with me to see the Davis family tomorrow.” At the mention of the Davis family, my brother’s face darkened, and he asked irritably, “For what?” I said, “To break the engagement.” My brother and Mia both looked at me, their surprise and joy evident. Having just met Mia and immediately proposing to break the engagement with the Davis family, anyone would think I was very satisfied with her. At least my brother, Mia, and my mother all thought so. My brother couldn’t contain his excitement, “Okay! Sis, I’ll go with you tomorrow to make things clear to the Davis family!” Mia also looked incredibly flattered, “Thank you, Victoria~” Behind them, my mother’s gaze was like a poisoned knife, stabbing at me. As soon as my brother walked Mia out the door, my mother exploded. “Victoria! Are you crazy? What did I tell you yesterday?” “Break the engagement? How could you even think of that!” “No, this engagement cannot be broken. You cannot take your brother to see the Davis family tomorrow!” “Who does Mia think she is? Your brother absolutely cannot miss out on the Davis family connection because of her.” My mother was pacing like an ant on a hot pan, yelling and screaming at me. From her stance, it seemed like if I dared to refuse her demands, she would keep hounding me until I compromised. I had no intention of dealing with her unreasonable behavior. I calmly took out my phone and waved it in front of her. She stared at my actions, bewildered. Right in front of her, I dialed my brother’s number. It had barely rung when my brother picked up, “Hello? Sis.” I put it on speaker, turned my head, smiled slowly at my mother, and said to my brother, “Your mother doesn’t agree to you breaking the engagement. See if you can persuade her. If you can’t, there’s no need to see the Davis family tomorrow.” “Is she crazy?!” my brother raged into the phone. “Sis, ignore her. I’m coming right back.” “Okay. I’ll wait for your good news.” Hanging up the phone, I looked at my mother, who was clutching her chest and gasping for air. Then I raised my wrist, pretended to check my watch, and said lightly, “Your son will be back soon, estimated twenty minutes.” “You still have twenty minutes to think about how to persuade him not to break the engagement.” “Good luck.” My mother pointed a trembling finger at me. “Victoria, you, you’re something else!” I smiled innocently. “I’m alright. It’s not like you just met me. I’ve always been ‘something else.’”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “409914”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I’m a professional scammer. I once spent three years pretending to be the “one who got away” for a blind, wealthy heir. After pulling off the ultimate con—faking a pregnancy, having a baby, and vanishing without a trace—I walked away. Five years later, I’m working as a tarot card reader at a weekend flea market. A little boy walks up to my table and hands me a crumpled fifty-dollar bill. “I want you to find my mommy.” Just as I pocket the cash, a woman runs over frantically. “Why are you over here? Mommy’s been looking everywhere for you.” The woman looked incredibly familiar. It took me a second to realize—it was the real “one who got away,” the woman I had impersonated. After a few seconds of stunned silence. I pulled the fifty bucks out of my pocket and handed it back to the kid. “You found your mom. Here’s your refund.” But he didn’t take the money. He just stared at me, unblinking. “The mom I’m looking for isn’t this one.” 01 My hand, holding the fifty-dollar bill, froze in mid-air. After a moment, I turned to the woman, Serena. “Kids just messing around, right? Here, you take it.” She took the money and grabbed the boy’s arm, ready to leave. The kid bit her hand and snatched the fifty bucks back. “This is my allowance! You’re not allowed to take it!” Serena hissed in pain and looked down sharply: “Leo!” She caught herself, then crouched down, her voice softening: “Be a good boy and come home with Mommy, otherwise Daddy is going to worry.” “You guys ignore me all the time anyway! Just go have another one!” Leo pushed her away, sat squarely back down on the stool in front of my table, and handed the money back to me. Serena let out a cold laugh, her gaze full of hidden meaning. “Fine, do a reading for him. Let’s see if his real mommy even wants him.” Judging by her tone, Leo definitely knew she wasn’t his biological mother. So… did Julian know too? When I left, I was still using Serena’s identity. My heart instantly tied itself into a knot. But I kept my composure, took the money, and asked Leo: “Do you know your exact date of birth?” Of course I knew the answer. Ten months of pregnancy, a C-section, pain that made me wish for death. I couldn’t forget it even if I tried. “January 8th, 2020.” He looked at me earnestly. “Daddy said it was really cold that day.” I remember. It snowed that day. The hospital room and the world outside were a blanket of white. I’ve always had poor circulation. Even with the heat blasting, my hands and feet were like ice in the winter. That night, Julian sat at the foot of the bed and warmed my feet. He sat there the entire night. But the person he was warming them for was Serena, not Chloe. I looked at Serena standing in front of me and buried those memories back deep in my heart. Then, I pulled out my tarot deck and put on a show of doing a reading. After a while, I said: “You and your mother aren’t meant to be. You should stop looking.” Leo’s bottom lip instantly quivered. “You’re lying.” “Daddy clearly said that Mommy is in the place with the most scammers.” 02 It’s true, I am very good at scamming people. I’m a professional scammer. I’ve played the role of a parent, a girlfriend, the “other woman”—always getting five-star reviews. I’ve done online romance scams, stringing guys along for a few hundred bucks before breaking up, teaching them a valuable life lesson; I’ve even hung out at high-end clubs, coaxing trust-fund kids into opening bottles of champagne that cost tens of thousands of dollars… But the biggest scam I’ve ever pulled in my life… Was pretending to be Serena and deceiving Julian for three years. Serena went abroad, Julian chased after her, got into a car accident on the way, and lost his sight. From then on, he was depressed and sullen. Julian’s parents couldn’t bear to watch him waste away, so through various connections, they found me and hired me to play Serena. To play Serena convincingly, I put in a lot of blood, sweat, and tears. I learned to play the bass, changed the cadence of my voice, and took vocal lessons. Right, they were musicians. Their indie band was just starting to get some traction when Serena chose to leave the country for a prestigious music program. And the band fell apart. The first time I saw Julian, he was sitting by a floor-to-ceiling window, staring blankly at the shadows of the trees outside. His eyes were lifeless. I used Serena’s tone and told him I was back. But I never expected his very first sentence to be— “Why did you use an erhu for the intro of that demo?” I had imagined countless scenarios where I’d have to flex my acting skills. Maybe we’d hold each other and cry, maybe we’d have a huge fight, or maybe there’d be a warm reconciliation. But I never, ever expected a scenario like this. So, I stammered for a good minute before finally blurting out: “To promote traditional cultural heritage.” The moment the words left my mouth, the room went dead silent. Julian tilted his head, his sightless eyes full of confusion. After a long time. He said, “I want to hear you sing. Our very first song.” I breathed a sigh of relief. Thankfully, I had practiced every single one of their songs thousands of times. I knew them by heart. Julian played the piano to accompany me. Even blind, he played beautifully. He just could never read sheet music again. When the song ended, he said: “You sang beautifully. Even better than before.” 03 Regardless of whether Julian knew of my existence or not, I was a greedy scammer who only cared about money. I played his “one who got away” for the money. I gave birth to his child for the money. And, for the money, I left cleanly and decisively. I don’t deserve him. And I definitely don’t deserve to be Leo’s mother. Snapping back to reality, I said with a blank expression: “Then you should go to the police station. They’ve caught a lot of scammers there.” Leo’s round, almond-shaped eyes suddenly welled up with tears. He looked so helpless. Serena smirked. “Now we can go, right?” Leo reluctantly followed her away. As he walked, he kept looking back at me, every few steps. Looking incredibly wronged. I lowered my head and began packing away my scattered tarot cards and velvet cloth, piece by piece. Then I adjusted the cheap gray wig on my head and limped away without looking back. Only after turning a corner did I hop on my beat-up electric scooter. Speeding away like lightning. They probably didn’t recognize me. I had never met Serena face-to-face. I had also suppressed the urge in my heart and hadn’t sneaked a peek at Leo for five whole years. Not to mention, I was currently disguised as an elderly woman. That’s how it is when you set up a fortune-telling booth; the older you look, the more people believe you. Because of this, I thought this was just a simple, random encounter. Until the next day. Leo showed up at my booth again and slapped down a fifty-dollar bill. “Can you do a reading and tell me what my mommy’s name is?” I hesitated and asked, “Are you out here all by yourself every day? Doesn’t your family look after you?” He shook his head. “Daddy went shopping with that woman. I sneaked out.” That woman? He didn’t even call Serena “Mommy”. Is his relationship with her that bad? I debated for a long time, but still took the money. After all, being with me, whatever the circumstances, was better than him wandering around alone. I shuffled the tarot cards and gave him an answer. “Your mother’s last name is Starr, but the first name is a bit hard to read.” “If you buy this ‘All-Seeing Eye’ crystal from me for $150, I’ll tell you right now.” 04 This time, Leo was dragged away by Serena, crying his eyes out. Because I had scammed him out of all his toy money, and I still hadn’t told him the first name. He wailed as he was pulled away. “Waaah! You really are a big scammer! Waaah! My Transformers and Ultraman! Waaah!” He definitely came looking for me on purpose. But who told him I was his mother? Julian? Or his grandparents? But regardless of who it was, there shouldn’t be any reason to tell him. The kid’s crying was loud. It drew disdainful looks from the other vendors around me. I ignored them as usual. I hopped on my scooter and didn’t look back. I figured the young master would back off after this. But over the next few days, he kept showing up at my booth. Handing over cash. I moved my booth to the east side of the flea market, then to the west side, then even set up outside a local church, but I couldn’t shake him. The last time. He was wearing overalls and a little backpack, and plopped himself right down on my folding stool. “Big scammer, I want to live at your house.” “…” I quickly packed up my things, looking down, and yanked the stool right out from under him. Leo landed hard on his butt on the concrete. Then he shakily stood up, patted the dust off his little hands, and looked at me with pitiful eyes. He really knew how to play the victim. Just like Julian used to. I suppressed the pang in my heart, ignored him, and walked away on my own. A rich kid from a prominent family wouldn’t be out without someone watching him. It was all a setup. But after turning the corner, I ultimately didn’t get on that electric scooter. Instead, I took a different route, circled back to another direction, and secretly watched Leo. He was still standing in the same spot, his hands nervously clasped together, staring intently in the direction I had left. Like an exquisite, fragile little porcelain doll. His features looked like mine, but his aura was all Julian. The very first time I saw him that day, my heart was involuntarily tugged. I almost cried. But my acting skills have always been pretty good. Half an hour passed. Leo didn’t leave, and no one from the Vance family showed up. …Is this really how Julian treats his own son? Is it because he knows he’s not Serena’s child, so he doesn’t care at all? An unspeakable bitterness suddenly welled up in my chest. I stared at Leo for a long time, and finally walked back to him. “Let’s go. Come home with me.” 05 Leo’s eyes lit up instantly. Sparkling, like colorful glass marbles. “Okay!” He grabbed my hand, his face radiating pure joy. Sitting on the back of my electric scooter. Leo hugged my waist from behind and asked nervously: “Big scammer, are you divorced now? Do you have any other kids?” I froze for a second. To ask those two questions, it seems someone from the Vance family has been investigating me. I thought about it and answered a question with a question. “Want to know? Trade me an answer for an answer.” “Who told you to come looking for your mom?” Leo went quiet. He held it in the whole ride and didn’t say another word. When he got off the scooter, his cheeks were puffed out, looking like an angry little pufferfish. Until we got to my door, and Little Grape circled around him, sniffing him. He was so startled he glued himself to my side. I smiled. “Her name is Little Grape. She’s much older than you, and very well-behaved. Don’t be afraid.” Little Grape is a small Bichon Frise. She was the birthday gift I gave Julian during my first year by his side. After he lost his sight, he was very depressed and needed some lively colors in his life. However, on the day I left the Vance family, I casually took the dog with me. In Julian’s eyes, Little Grape has probably passed away by now. But since she was a dog I raised, she’s probably just as insignificant as someone like me. Leo crouched down and carefully pet Little Grape’s head. She immediately rolled over onto her back, exposing her belly. I almost forgot. Little Grape had sniffed Leo after he was born. “Wow, she licked my hand!” Leo giggled. “Don’t touch your eyes or mouth after your hand gets licked. Remember to wash your hands before eating.” I instructed him as we walked inside. I changed my clothes and took off my makeup. Old-age makeup is hard to put on, but quick to take off. Leo ran over and peeked at me from the doorframe. His eyes were sparkling. I looked down at him, confused. He gave a shy smile and ran away. ……? Are all kids like this? Until I went into his room to call him for dinner, and saw him lying in Little Grape’s dog bed, talking into his smartwatch. His tone was full of bragging. “Mommy is so, so pretty! I got to see her before Daddy!” 06 I didn’t make a sound. I stood at the door and listened. I didn’t know what the person on the other end said. Leo let out a “Hmph.” “So what! I get to hug Mommy and sleep with her tonight.” He rambled on about a lot of things. “Mhm, mhm! There’s no one else at home, and no men’s clothes!” “Mommy bought me an Ultraman toy.” As he spoke, he started getting anxious. “But Mommy is so great, someone’s going to steal her!” …… I felt like I had been scammed. Scammed by this father-son duo. “You can’t sleep in the dog bed, your clothes will get dirty.” I suddenly spoke up. Leo was startled. He hurriedly hung up the call and scrambled out of the dog bed, his cheeks flushed red. I found it amusing. I didn’t ask him who he was talking to; I just took him to wash his hands and eat dinner. At the dinner table, watching Leo stuff his face, I remembered a gig I had seen recently. Playing the wife and son of a rich guy, needing a woman around 30 and a boy around 4. Two hours for a thousand bucks. Looking at it now, it was practically tailor-made for me. So I said: “If you want to live with me, you have to go to work with me the day after tomorrow.” Leo looked up, a grain of rice still stuck to the corner of his mouth, his speech slurred. “Are we going to scam people into buying the ‘All-Seeing Eye’?” “We’re going to go find you a rich dad.” 07 That night, Leo slept in the same bed as me. After I turned off the light, after a while, he slowly shimmied closer. His breath puffed against my face, tickling me. When I didn’t react, he reached out and poked my cheek. It reminded me of the many nights during those three years when Julian would also frequently touch my face. His long, slender fingers would trace my eyebrows, my eyes, my nose, and finally rest on my lips. I would tease him: “It’s not like you haven’t seen me before, why are you feeling my face like this?” Those pitch-black eyes stared straight at me. Even though he couldn’t see, they still sparkled with light. “I want to memorize it better.” Later, I told him I was pregnant. That night, he traced my face over and over again. As if trying to carve it into his heart. “Chloe, marry me, okay?” …… Leo’s little hands were chubby and felt really nice against my face. “Mommy……” “Why didn’t you come see me?” “I missed you so much… Mommy.” He, just a tiny little thing, burrowed into my arms. I couldn’t hold it back. My tears ultimately soaked the pillow. 08 The day I accompanied the rich guy for the acting gig, I took Leo to the restaurant right on time. I had actually been to this restaurant before. With Julian. After he lost his sight, it was the first time he mustered the courage to write music again, and he asked a friend he knew well to release the single. To help him write the song, I studied every single instrument thoroughly. I also unexpectedly discovered that we clicked perfectly when it came to music. He never again asked the kind of questions he did when we first met. “Not bad. Beautiful.” A male voice broke my train of thought. It was the rich guy. His name was Liam. He did have a wife abroad, but he got scammed in the marriage. He felt embarrassed, so he never told anyone. Now that he was back, he specifically hired people to put on a show. To make the lie even better, he even added a kid to the mix. He seemed very satisfied. He kept praising Leo. “So cute, he actually looks a bit like me.” Leo looked up and studied him carefully, then looked at me. It was like he was asking, “Do we look alike?” One with monolids, one with double eyelids—they definitely didn’t look alike. But this was the client paying the bills. So I smiled along. “He does. Come on, call him Daddy.” Leo was confused, but very street-smart. “Daddy!” Liam loved it. He took Leo’s hand and led us into the restaurant. “Be a sweet talker later, call me Daddy a few more times, and I’ll give you some pocket money, got it?” “Okay! Daddy! Daddy!” His voice was very loud. In the private dining room, many eyes shot towards me and Leo. Liam’s friends all offered congratulations and teased him. I smoothly and tactfully handled their comments. Until I caught a glimpse of a cold, aloof face in the corner. After regaining his sight, those sharp eyes had a piercing focus, making him even more handsome. Only right now, there was a faint, mocking smile playing at the corners of his eyes. “Heh.” Seeing him, Leo went pitter-patter and ran over, throwing himself into his arms. “Daddy!” The talking and laughing in the private room suddenly died down. Gazes crossed through the crowd and collided.

Right before my childhood sweetheart died, he declared he was leaving his entire inheritance to his first love. “Mia is different from you, Harper,” he wheezed. “You were just my caregiver, but she’s a ballerina. She needs to be elegant for the rest of her life. She needs this money to live comfortably.” “Besides, if you hadn’t orchestrated that car crash back then, she and I wouldn’t have been separated.” “You used my gratitude to trap me, ruining my entire life.” “If I had a do-over, I’d rather stay a cripple than have anything to do with you.” He died full of resentment, conveniently forgetting that I saved his life, missing two of my final AP exams in the process. Later, to help him with his physical therapy, I gave up my dream of aerospace engineering and switched to nursing. I stared at the document disinheriting me, nodded softly, and said, “Okay.” When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of our final exams—the exact moment he stole a car to chase after his first love. I pretended to know nothing. In this life, I don’t want anything to do with him either. 01 The final bell of the school year had just rung. My dad grabbed my arm and hustled me toward his car. As he started the engine, my mom began explaining the rush. “Did you know Liam was secretly dating someone? His girlfriend dumped him today, right before finals, and Liam…” I didn’t need to hear the rest. I knew exactly what happened. It was exactly like my past life. Liam got into a horrific car accident chasing after his girlfriend, permanently losing the use of his legs. The only difference this time was that I watched him drive off to his doom, and then I calmly went back inside to finish my afternoon exams. At the hospital, two exhausted surgeons emerged from the OR. “The crash was catastrophic, and the rescue was delayed. We managed to save his life, but he’ll likely never walk again. If his recovery goes poorly, we might have to amputate.” Hearing this, Liam’s mother, Mrs. Davis, burst into agonizing sobs. Mr. Davis supported her, his own face etched with grief. My parents stood frozen in shock. “It’s a tragedy. Liam worked so hard all these years, only for this to happen right in the middle of finals week.” My dad shot my mom a look, signaling her to be quiet. When Liam was wheeled out, all four parents rushed to his side. I stood back, staring blankly at my own hands. They were slender and smooth. No calluses, no swollen, deformed joints from years of scrubbing clothes and washing dishes in cold water. I had truly been reborn. The two exams I aced this afternoon were real. In my past life, Liam’s first love, Mia, broke up with him on the day of our final exams. Desperate to win her back, Liam stole his dad’s car without a second thought and chased after her. And I, worried sick about him, followed close behind. I witnessed the gruesome crash firsthand. To get him out of the wreckage and to the hospital as fast as possible, I missed my two afternoon exams. I was a straight-A student, easily Ivy League bound, but my final GPA plummeted. I had planned to take a gap year and reapply, but Liam suddenly proposed to me from his hospital bed. He said, “The doctors told me if you hadn’t risked your life to pull me out of that car, I would have definitely lost both my legs.” “You missed your exams for me, gave up your aerospace engineering dreams. I want to spend the rest of my life taking care of you… if… if you’ll have me.” Years of a secret crush suddenly culminating in a proposal—I was so shocked I didn’t know how to react. “B-but, what about Mia?” Liam’s eyes were filled with nothing but hatred. “If it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t be like this!” “I hate her more than anything!” I hesitated for a day. Coupled with the changing college admissions landscape, and Liam repeatedly swearing he couldn’t live without me, I finally agreed. I gave up my dream major and enrolled in a local nursing program so I could help Liam walk again. For the next few decades, I dedicated my life to his physical therapy. He said he hated having strangers in the house, so I did everything: laundry, cooking, massages, rehabilitation. Everything was done by my hands alone. I took meticulous care of him until he finally stood up again. He refused to succumb to his disability and wanted to start his own business. I was the one running around, handling all the logistics for him. But on the day his company finally succeeded, the day of his launch party… I overheard him asking his assistant, “Did you manage to invite Mia, the ballerina, to be my date tonight?” The assistant nodded, hesitating. “Yes, Mr. Davis. But what about… your wife?” Liam, looking sharp in his tailored suit in the mirror, let out a cold scoff. “Wife? She’s just a glorified maid.” I stood behind the door, humiliated, gripping the fabric of my evening gown until my knuckles turned white. Perhaps karma is real. Liam ended up back in the ICU due to complications from his old injuries. But on his deathbed, he left every cent of his wealth to Mia. He even transferred the meager savings in my personal account—a few hundred thousand dollars—to her. “Harper, she’s different from you. You’re a caregiver; she’s a ballerina. She needs to be elegant for the rest of her life. She needs this money to live comfortably.” “Besides, if you hadn’t orchestrated that car crash back then, she and I wouldn’t have been separated.” “You used my gratitude to trap me, ruining my entire life.” “If I had a do-over, I’d rather stay a cripple than have anything to do with you.” After half a lifetime of backbreaking labor, I was left with nothing but calloused hands and an empty bank account. In my past life, I already paid the ultimate price for my blind devotion. 02 This time, I silently watched Mr. and Mrs. Davis shed their tears. “Your father and I only have one son. We poured our hearts and souls into Liam. He was always such a good, straight-A student. How could he throw it all away for some secret high school romance?” Mrs. Davis wailed. “I asked around. That girl is an art student; her grades are terrible. The SATs don’t mean anything to her! But she shouldn’t have ruined Liam at such a crucial moment! Sob…” My mom sighed beside me. “That girl is something else. Liam gets into a horrific accident because of her, and she doesn’t even show up to see him.” A flash of hatred crossed Mrs. Davis’s eyes. She shot up from her chair. “We’re a reasonable family, but that girl ruined my son! I have to go see what she has to say for herself!” She was about to storm off to find Mia, but before she could take two steps, Liam’s screams echoed from the hospital room. “Mia! Mia!” I followed them in, staying at the back of the group. Liam’s head was wrapped in bandages, his legs immobilized. He was struggling desperately to sit up but couldn’t manage it. Because I didn’t follow him this time, Liam had been trapped unconscious in the car for over an hour before a teacher found him and called 911. The delayed rescue meant his injuries were far more severe. The doctors said the likelihood of amputation was very high. Mrs. Davis rushed over, fighting back tears. “Don’t move, sweetie. The doctor said you can’t move around. Your incisions haven’t healed yet.” Liam looked at his legs, momentarily stunned, then tried to play it cool. “It’s fine. It’s just a broken bone, right? It’s not a big deal.” “Look, I can still move.” He tried to move his legs, but there was no response. His expression slowly froze. With each failed attempt, panic began to creep across his face. “Why can’t I move my legs? The anesthesia hasn’t worn off yet, right?” Mr. and Mrs. Davis stood there with tears in their eyes, not knowing how to break the news. “Say something! Tell me!!” Liam slammed the call button himself. When the nurse rushed in, he started interrogating her. “What’s wrong with my legs?” “Tell me! What the hell is wrong with my legs!!” The nurse was startled. Before she could answer, Liam began violently punching his own legs. “Why can’t I feel anything?!” He was hysterical. It took three people to hold him down. But watching him like this, a strange sense of satisfaction bloomed in my chest. I walked right up to him and said, enunciating every word: “Keep punching them. Right now, you’re only paralyzed. If you keep hitting them, they might actually have to amputate.” Liam froze, as if the word “paralyzed” had physically struck him. “Par… paralyzed?” Mrs. Davis finally broke down and sobbed uncontrollably. Mr. Davis added heavily, “I know the whole story now. You’re in this state because of that girl, Mia…” Before he could finish, Liam suddenly shouted: “It has nothing to do with Mia.” “It was my fault. I panicked and took the car without permission.” I lowered my eyes and smiled. Such favoritism. Even when she’s the reason you’re paralyzed, you still defend her in front of everyone? This accident clearly had nothing to do with me, yet in my past life, Liam relentlessly blamed me for it. The difference between being loved and unloved was glaringly obvious. In my past life, he said he’d rather be a cripple than have anything to do with me. In this life, he can stay a cripple, and I will go to college and achieve my dreams. Everyone gets what they want. 03 This time, I didn’t volunteer to stay at the hospital with him. I stayed for a bit, then went home. But the next day, Mrs. Davis collapsed from the stress. Liam, a minor, driving without a license and getting into a massive wreck had hit the local news. The internet was flooded with comments tearing him apart. Mr. Davis couldn’t handle it all alone, so my mom, feeling bad, sent me—freshly finished with finals—back to the hospital to help out. Seeing it was me, Liam’s initial excitement evaporated. I ignored him. I just sat quietly in the corner playing on my phone. As long as he didn’t die on my watch, I didn’t care. But when the nurse came in to change his dressings, Liam was incredibly uncooperative. “Bed 18, time to change your dressings.” Liam snapped his head around, his eyes bloodshot. “I don’t need it.” The nurse sighed, clearly used to this kind of behavior. “If you don’t change the dressings, your legs will only get worse.” She ignored his protest and reached out to unwrap the bandages. “I said I don’t need it!” Liam violently swatted the tray of Betadine out of her hands. It crashed to the floor, metal clanging loudly. I frowned and stood up. In my past life, Liam had a hard time accepting his disability too, but he was never this much of a bastard. Thinking back carefully, I realized the difference. In my past life, after the accident, I sought out Mia and pleaded with her. She came to visit him the very next day. But this time, the news of his accident was all over school, and Mia was nowhere to be found. He was taking out his frustration on the nurse. The young nurse looked incredibly wronged but still had to do her job. Before she could even touch him, Liam shoved her hard on the shoulder. “I told you I don’t need it! Are you deaf?! Are all you nurses this pathetic? Can’t you understand what a patient is telling you…” Unable to tolerate it any longer, I raised my hand and slapped him hard across the face. “If you don’t want treatment, just check yourself out. Why are you acting like a psycho in here?” The nurse wiped her tears, took a deep breath, went out, and brought back new supplies. “Bed 18…” I took the supplies from her and tossed them onto Liam’s chest. “If you want to die, hurry up and do it. If you don’t want to die, change them yourself.” The nurse shot me a grateful look and quickly exited the room, looking relieved. Liam glared at me, panting heavily like a rabid lion. “Harper, what right do you have to hit me!!” Seeing the red welt on his face, I finally felt a little better. “Before you talk about dying, look at your parents. Your mom is hospitalized from stress, your dad aged ten years overnight. What right do you have to act like this?” “Just because Mia didn’t come to see you? Why don’t you go yell at her?” Liam fell silent, clearly struck a nerve. After a long while, he spoke, his voice thick with congestion. “Mia… she’s probably at her dance intensive. She doesn’t know what happened, that’s why she hasn’t come.” I ruthlessly shattered his fantasy. “Finals are over. She was at a graduation party yesterday.” Liam pressed his lips tightly together and turned his head away, clearly refusing to accept it. When I came back from the restroom later, he was secretly changing his own dressings. In my past life, my heart broke for him. I did everything for him, spoon-feeding him, washing him. Later on, I basically turned him into a giant man-child. He wouldn’t even take his daily pills unless I sorted them out and handed them to him. Now that there was no one to coddle him, he could manage just fine on his own. When I got home, I checked Mia’s Instagram. She was living her best life these past few days. After thinking about it, I opened my chat with her. I wanted to see how Mia would treat Liam in this life without me constantly lecturing and pushing her.

From the moment I gained conscious thought, I understood one fundamental truth: I did not belong to myself. I was merely a strategic asset, a bargaining chip in my parents’ desperate gambit to curry favor with the elite Miller family of Seattle. During my freshman year of high school, they transferred me to the same exclusive private academy attended by Caleb Miller. Their directives were crystalline: charm Caleb, outshine the horde of other debutantes vying for position, and secure my spot as the future Mrs. Miller. However, at that time, Caleb’s heart was already occupied. I witnessed the unbridled arrogance in his expression soften only for her; I saw the reverence with which he kissed her forehead. I was a firsthand witness to the passionate romance of their youth—memories that remained vivid long after Caleb and I eventually married. I knew, deep down, that I only possessed the husk of a boy whose brilliance belonged entirely to someone else’s past. So, when life granted me a miracle—a second chance—I chose to fight back. 01 I pressed a beige bandage over the angry scratch on my neck before finally turning to look back at the sprawling complex of luxury villas behind me. I let out a long, slow breath, a genuine smile spreading across my face. Relief. The very first thing I did upon waking up in this past was drag my parents through a near-death melodrama. I made it absolutely clear that I would rather die than adhere to their scheming calculations for my life. It cost me dearly. To buy my freedom, I had to sign a contract promising to pay them a million dollars by the time I turned thirty to compensate for the “cost of raising me.” But I succeeded. And while they immediately retaliated by stripping away every investment intended to mold me into a trophy wife, they were stuck covering my basic living expenses until high school graduation due to a clause in the trust. As for college tuition and making my way in the world? That was entirely on me now. Sitting in the classroom, the surreal reality of my situation finally settled over me. I drifted my gaze to the seat a few rows ahead and to my left. Caleb Miller. Just then, a cool breeze swept through the open window, puffing up his oversized white collared shirt. He radiated that raw, indomitable energy of youth. A smile played on his lips, and that habitual arrogance in his eyes was replaced by a rare tenderness. And all of it was directed solely at the girl beside him. Maya Jenkins. She wasn’t just his deskmate; she was his girlfriend. They were the perfect, envy-inducing golden couple, inseparable since freshman year. Even the school administration, which usually frowned upon teenage romance, looked the other way. They were both top-tier students; being together didn’t negatively impact their academic performance. In fact, the teachers used them to spur on other students: “You want to date? Fine. Make sure your combined GPA beats Caleb and Maya first.” But who could have guessed? This seemingly unshakable teenage love would still fall apart. In my previous life, that breakup allowed me—the thief hiding in the shadows, coveting their happiness—to pick up Caleb on the rebound. For a time, I was actually naive enough to be thrilled. It wasn’t until after the wedding that Caleb’s bone-deep indifference hit me. Even in the intimacy of our bedroom, he acted like he was merely checking items off a tedious checklist. It was a cold awakening. I realized that even though I “possessed” him, he was not the brilliant boy I had adored from afar. I screamed at him. I cried. I even steeled my heart and demanded a divorce. But he refused. He claimed he had to fulfill his “duties as a husband.” Faced with my perceived emotional outbursts, he offered only a stonewall of silence. The time he spent at home grew shorter and shorter, until he practically lived at the office. I dissolved in self-pity, gradually losing my sense of self, growing darker and more melancholy with each passing day. Until finally, one fateful day. Caleb was driving me to a routine medical check-up. We were involved in a horrific accident. When that massive semi-truck lost control and ploughed directly toward us, my only feeling in that split second wasn’t fear, but a twisted sense of liberation. The impact was cataclysmic, instantly crushing my consciousness. In the hazy twilight between life and death, I thought I saw Caleb cradling my blood-drenched body, breaking down in uncontrollable, agonizing sobs. But I quickly dismissed the notion. I thought, with bitter irony, Why would Caleb ever cry for me? When I opened my eyes again, I thought I had survived. Instead, I had been reborn, waking up directly in the middle of my high school years. I looked at the two figures leaning into each other ahead of me, and the last lingering ghost in my heart evaporated. Perhaps my youth was meant to be lived a different way this time. 02 “Chloe, are you absolutely sure about this?” In the quiet of the guidance office, Mrs. Evans was staring at me, her expression grave. Even after I nodded, she still looked bewildered. “I know your math and science scores are exceptional, but didn’t you always insist on focusing on the Humanities track? Why the sudden change of heart?” I kept my head bowed. In my previous life, the Humanities track was forced upon me by my parents. The reasoning was insultingly simple: Maya Jenkins—the girl Caleb loved—was a Humanities major. Their strategy was to have me mimic Caleb’s current girlfriend in hopes of stealing his affection. Reborn, I obviously didn’t need to follow their playbook anymore. I lifted my head, offering the counselor a bright, open smile. “Because the light finally turned on.” Though my cryptic response confused her, Mrs. Evans was visibly relieved I had returned to the STEM track. With orientation over and my major declared, the official track assignments were scheduled for the end of the break. On the very last day of vacation, I visited a local salon. I had my long hair and heavy, face-hiding bangs chopped off, replacing them with a sleek, shoulder-length bob. “Wow, little sister, you have a great fashion sense,” the stylist, Tony, gushed as he finished. He examined my reflection in the mirror, not skimping on praise. “Your face shape is perfect for this bob. It gives you a much more sophisticated look!” I looked at the utterly new version of myself in the mirror and smiled with satisfaction. On the first day back, classmates swarmed me, their faces painted with shock. “Chloe, you cut your hair?” “That bob looks amazing on you! It’s a completely different vibe!” “Yeah, definitely! Like one of those sophisticated women doctors in zombie movies!” The buzzing from my classmates attracted the attention of Caleb Miller, who had been resting his head on his desk with his eyes closed. He turned casually, cast a single, indifferent glance my way, and then turned back. My parents’ desire for me to become a Miller daughter-in-law was purely one-sided wishful thinking. Currently, our family didn’t even have the social standing to speak with the Millers as equals. My parents had to pull significant strings just to find out which school Caleb was attending. So, while I had been indoctrinated with Caleb’s likes and dislikes since childhood, I had never actually interacted with him. To Caleb, I was a complete and utter stranger. That suited me just fine. I intended to keep it that way. 03 The junior year academic grind passed in a blur. During the fall semester, I worked hard to fill the gaps in knowledge I had neglected in my first life. Now, I was finally back to my true ranking. In my previous life, even before the track split, my STEM scores consistently ranked me in the top ten of the entire grade. Now, backed by the memories of my previous life, I had broken into the top five. By the mid-term exams of junior year, I had actually pushed my way up to second place. Only Caleb Miller remained, managing to stay one head above me. “Holy crap, Caleb! Looks like you might not keep that number one spot for long!” “This Chloe girls is in our class, right? Are you guys close?” A crowd of students had gathered in front of the Honor Roll bulletin board to check rankings. I happened to overhear the exchange between Caleb and one of his friends. Caleb didn’t answer immediately. He stared fixatedly at the scores on the Honor Roll—the mere five-point gap between us. He stared for over a minute before turning to leave, tossing back a single, cold response to his friend: “Not close.” Shortly after the start of the spring semester, our AP Calculus teacher presented a complex competition problem. He framed it as a practice test for those interested in joining the Academic Decathlon math team. Ever since declaring my STEM major, I had intended to participate in Academic Decathlon. I knew that only by climbing higher peaks could I gain more scholarships and truly secure my independence. This was my chance to paint my youth with a completely new color. One by one, students attempted the problem and failed, until silence settled over the entire class. I raised my hand. And I solved it. The classroom erupted. “Holy… Chloe is a beast! She solved a problem that even Caleb couldn’t do!” “Looks like Chloe taking Caleb’s number one spot is practically guaranteed now.” “Seriously, Chloe’s improved so fast. She has total ‘academic weapon’ energy now. I think I’m catching academic-attraction!” “Academic-attraction my ass, you just think Chloe is hot!” My classmates were laughing and chatting, but then, someone suddenly asked: “Hey, do you guys think Chloe and Caleb make a good couple?” “They’re both gorgeous, and they’re both geniuses!” “Hard to say. Even though we’re in the same class, I’ve never seen Chloe even talk to Caleb. They act like total strangers.” “Plus, Caleb has a girlfriend!” “Look, Maya is completely different from Chloe. Chloe clearly isn’t Caleb’s type.” “That’s fine, she’s my type.” “Get lost, loser. Like a smart girl like Chloe would even look at you.” I heard every word of my classmates’ gossip. Internally, I just smiled with indifference. I didn’t care. While I was focused on researching Decathlon problems, I didn’t notice Caleb, seated ahead of me, turn back to look at me, his expression unreadable. The eve of the State Decathlon competition coincided with mid-terms. And it was during these mid-term exams that I finally surpassed Caleb, taking the number one spot in the STEM track. My classmates, witnessing this historic moment, swarmed to congratulate me. After thanking them, my only thought was tomorrow’s competition. I had cleared the local and regional rounds, and the State Finals were next. Caleb and I were both pinned as the Decathlon team’s key competitors. Our beaming faculty advisor led us to the state capital. On the day of the finals, I proved that sleeping only four hours a night to practice Decathlon problems was worth it. In mathematics, while raw talent is paramount, hard work can never be discounted. I didn’t consider myself naturally gifted; I just made sure I was the hardest worker. When I was announced as the Decathlon Gold Medalist, my heart swelled with pride—pride that I had genuinely changed my path, pride that I had truly grown this far. Looking up at the judges’ panel, I saw the legendary elderly academic I had been dying to meet. “Professor Thompson, I want to be your research assistant.” I summoned all my courage to make my request at the post-awards reception. The professor was stunned, but when he processed my words, his gaze turned appreciative. “You’re interested in Aerospace Engineering?” I nodded vigorously. The professor smiled and gave me his contact information, telling me to contact him whenever I was ready to visit his lab at MIT. That was my entire purpose in competing—securing the Academic Decathlon National Championship junior year guaranteed me a full-ride scholarship to any top-tier school and the chance to start research early. It also meant I could start making money sooner to pay back the million dollars I owed the Bennetts. Our advisor patted my shoulder, visibly moved. “Chloe, that is not an easy path.” “But having such high ambitions… I support you!” With the competition over, I had achieved my goals: I secured my future, met my mentor, and verbalized my ambitions. Everything was unfolding according to plan, and I was genuinely happy. Letting myself relax, I spent hours wandering through the streets of the unfamiliar city. As dusk settled, I strolled back to our hotel. We were scheduled for an early flight back the next morning. However, as I reached the hotel entrance, I saw Caleb Miller standing there. He looked like he was waiting for someone. I didn’t ask; after all, as my classmates had noted, reborn or not, I truly wasn’t close to him. I intended to pretend I hadn’t seen him and walk straight past. But he stopped me. I froze, lifting my head to meet his profound, dark eyes. “The advisor noticed you hadn’t checked in yet. He sent me down to look for you.” He stated his purpose, and I nodded in realization. I apologized, feeling slightly embarrassed. “I’m sorry. I was wandering and lost track of time.” “Thank you for looking. Go back up and rest, we have to be up early tomorrow.” With that, I prepared to leave. I hadn’t taken two steps before my wrist was grabbed. Stunned, I turned back to look at Caleb in confusion. “Caleb, is there something else?” Caleb remained silent, just staring at me with an intense gaze, eyes swirling with emotions I couldn’t decipher. After a long moment, he finally spoke. “Do we have beef?” I was completely baffled by his question. I shook my head. “No—” “Then why have you been ignoring me this entire time?” Caleb stared straight at me, his eyes demanding answers. 04 I was stunned by the question, instinctively trying to pull my wrist back, but his grip only tightened. The teenager’s palm was warm, with a layer of calluses from basketball, and his strength was unsettlingly intense. “I’m not ignoring you.” I tried to keep my voice as level as possible. “We just aren’t close. I didn’t think we had anything to talk about.” That was the truth. In my previous life, right up until the wedding, the total number of sentences we had ever exchanged didn’t exceed fifty. He was always busy with Miller family affairs. I was always obsessed with figuring out how to make him happy. We were like two parallel lines—forced together under the same roof, but never truly touching. Caleb’s brow furrowed. The lamplight fell across his high nose bridge, casting a small shadow. “Not close?” He repeated the words, his tone carrying an unreadable quality. “From freshman year until now, we’ve sat in the same classroom for nearly two years.” “You don’t even say hello when we pass.” “Last time in front of the Honor Roll, when my friend asked who you were, I actually couldn’t answer him.” I remained silent. I couldn’t very well tell him that I had spent an entire previous life watching him love someone else. Knowing I was just a substitute, I only wanted to stay far away from him in this life. “At the state finals, the auxiliary line method you used for the last problem…” He suddenly switched topics, his gaze locked on my face. “That was a method I used in Academic Decathlon prep middle school. Besides that teacher, nobody knew that specific shortcut.” My heart skipped a beat. I had seen that in an old notebook while organizing his study years ago in my previous life. I had foolishly memorized it for the longest time. I thought that maybe one day it would prove useful, giving us something in common to talk about. I never imagined that in this life, it would be used in this context. “Coincidence, I guess.” I looked away, not daring to meet his eyes. “I’ve seen similar problem types when drilling practice tests.” He stared at me heavily for several seconds before suddenly letting go of my hand. “Maybe.” He turned around and walked into the hotel, his voice drifting back carelessly. “Get some rest. Don’t be late for the flight tomorrow.” I stood rooted to the spot, watching his back disappear behind the revolving doors, before finally letting out a breath. At some point, my palm had started sweating, and a trace of his warmth still lingered on the wrist he had grabbed. Back in my room, I collapsed onto the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. Caleb’s reaction today was too strange. Why would he suddenly care if I was ignoring him? Was it because I stole his number one ranking? Or because of that specific math solution? I thought about it for half an hour but couldn’t come up with a logical answer. Sanguine by nature, I pulled out the reading list Professor Thompson had given me. After flipping two pages, I was completely immersed. The world of Aerospace Engineering was like a vast sea of stars; once I dived in, nothing else mattered. Life after returning from the competition went back to normal. 05 Every day consisted of classes, drilling problems, camping in the library, and occasionally working odd jobs to earn some spending money. The National Merit semifinalist list—the pool for guaranteed college scholarships—was finalized, and as long as I maintained my current grades, I would be heading to MIT next fall. My parents called twice. Their tone carried a cautious test, asking if I would reconsider switching back to the Humanities track. They said the Miller family was expanding into new business sectors, and a daughter-in-law with a Humanities background would be a better fit. I hung up on them immediately, and they didn’t call again. Maya Jenkins did, however, corner me once. It was a rainy Tuesday in December. She stopped me right at the entrance of the main academic building. She was wearing a soft pink cardigan, long hair flowing over her shoulders, looking gentle and lovely. “Chloe, can we talk for a minute?” I was slightly bewildered, having no idea why Maya Jenkins would be seeking me out. But I nodded and followed her to the edge of the campus quad, under the shelter of the old oak trees. “Are you in love with Caleb?” She cut straight to the chase, her eyes filled with wary suspicion. I froze for a second, utterly confused. “Why would you even ask that? I don’t even know him.” “Then why do you always fight him for the number one spot?” “Why did you use his specific, secret math method at the state finals?” “Why did you suddenly cut your hair and change your whole look?” The questions shot out of her like rapid-fire, her voice trembling slightly. “You weren’t like this before. You never cared about competing with anyone.” I finally understood. To her, every change I had made was to get Caleb’s attention. In my previous life, she would have been right. Her intuition was spot on; the only thing wrong was the timeline. “Maya,” I looked into her eyes, speaking with utter seriousness. “I did all of this for myself.” “I want to go to MIT and research Aerospace Engineering.” “I want to make enough money to repay the Bennetts. None of this has anything to do with Caleb Miller.” She clearly didn’t believe me, biting her lip. “Then why do you always ignore him? Why don’t you dare to speak to him?” “Because there’s no need to.” I shrugged. “He and I are not in the same world, and we never will be in the future.” “You can relax. I have zero interest in Caleb Miller.” “Besides, I’m avoiding Caleb, aren’t I? I don’t talk to him at all. That’s the furthest possible thing from a relationship, isn’t it?” “Why are you so insecure?” Having said my piece, I turned and walked away without looking back. I heard her choked-up voice saying something behind me, but I didn’t hear it clearly and didn’t want to. Deep down, I was actually a little disappointed. In my previous life, Maya Jenkins had always been Caleb’s “white moonlight.” And as a Humanities major who consistently ranked at the top of her track, I had assumed she was also a very brilliant, secure person. I never imagined that in this life, she would lower herself to petty jealousy! From that day on, the way Maya looked at me changed, carrying a definite edge of hostility.

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