Author: Momo Chan

In my ultra-wealthy, old-money family, the biological daughter was finally found. My entire adoptive family sat around, waiting for me—the fake daughter—to have a total mental breakdown and fight for their love. Instead, I just efficiently packed my bags. “I can finally leave? Oh my god, thank you. Seriously, thank you.” The real daughter stared at me, completely bewildered. “You don’t… you don’t hate me?” I patted her on the shoulder. “Honey, do you have any idea what the rules are in this house? “6:00 AM mandatory morning run. 8:00 PM strict curfew. No speaking allowed while eating. All romantic partners must be vetted and approved by the family board…” Her face went pale, inch by inch. I gave a cheerful, dramatic wave. “Good luck, sis! I’m going to go pursue my freedom!” 01 My phone buzzed aggressively. I was currently at my desk at work, slacking off and playing a video game. The estate’s head butler calling me scared me so badly my hand jerked, and my character instantly dropped dead on the screen. “Miss Harper, your father requires you to return to the main estate immediately.” I sat up straight, glancing at the date on the bottom right corner of my computer monitor. My heart tightened. Is this it? Finally? “Arthur, is it…” “Yes,” the butler said, his tone grave. “Miss Stella’s DNA results came back. Your father has sent the security detail to pick her up.” I practically launched myself out of my office chair. My cubicle neighbor, Mia, was still immersed in her own game. Startled by my sudden movement, her eyes went wide. “Whoa, Harper! Did you hit the lottery or something? Why are you so happy?” “Better than the lottery!” I replied, shutting down my computer at lightning speed. I grabbed the little potted succulent from my desk and shoved it into my tote bag. “I’m finally getting my freedom!” “…Okay, but why are you stealing the company plant?” “I’ve been raising it for three years. We have an emotional bond.” Half an hour later, I was standing at the front doors of the Thorne family estate, taking a deep breath. This is the last time, Harper Thorne. Perform this final act perfectly, and you are free from this gilded cage! 02 I pushed open the massive mahogany doors. The atmosphere in the living room was so heavy you could cut it with a knife. My dad, my mom, and my older brother, Connor. The three of them sat on the pristine white leather sofa in a rigid, perfect triangle. A very stable shape, mathematically speaking. “Dad. Mom. Connor.” I greeted them politely, one by one, keeping my voice sweet and submissive. My gaze swept over the glass coffee table, landing on the DNA test report. I kept my expression perfectly neutral. Internally, I was doing backflips. I wondered which limited-edition designer bags I should pack in my suitcase tonight. My dad didn’t notice the joy vibrating right under my skin. He gave a tactical, awkward cough. “Harper, sit down. We have some news…” “I’m the fake daughter switched at birth, the real one has been found, and she’s on her way home right now, right?” I interrupted, cutting right to the chase. “Where is she? I’ll go out to the driveway and welcome her.” Dead silence filled the cavernous hall. They all looked like they had just swallowed a lemon. Connor narrowed his eyes at me. “Harper, are you okay? Did the shock break your brain?” He paused. “Look, if you want to scream and cry, just do it. Don’t hold it in.” “Harper, Mom knows you must be devastated…” “Stop! Both of you. I am perfectly fine,” I said, holding up my hands. “When is my new sister arriving? Does she need help setting up her room?” My dad’s brow furrowed tightly. “Harper, you… you aren’t sad? You know we still love you…” “Why would I be sad?” I blinked rapidly, putting on my best innocent act. “Having a sister is amazing!” Three pairs of eyes stared at me with profound suspicion. They clearly didn’t buy it. In the script they had written for this moment, I was supposed to: A. Break down in hysterical tears. B. Flip the coffee table in a rage. C. Faint dramatically. They had probably already planned on waiting for me to calm down before letting Stella in the front door. “Stella is back. Your status in this family…” Connor said darkly, waiting, almost hoping, for me to finally snap. Sorry to disappoint, big bro. I just kept blinking, refusing to take the bait. Nobody can use my emotions against me if I don’t have any to give them. 03 Connor let out a cold sneer. “Pathetic act.” Then, like a petulant child demanding a show, he gestured to the butler. The butler immediately led in a girl wearing a simple, faded white dress. She was biting her lip, her expression terrified and anxious. She looked like a deer caught in the headlights. The moment I saw her face, I knew why the family had found her so easily. They didn’t even need a DNA test. She was the spitting image of my dad. I took a step forward. My family immediately tensed, their eyes darting between me and her like security detail waiting for an attack. I had to suppress a laugh. I walked deliberately slow, just to mess with them. Then, under their petrified gazes, I opened my arms wide. “Sister! Welcome home!” Stella froze, her eyes going round. She stammered, “You… you don’t hate me? I’m taking your place.” “Hate you? I can’t thank you enough!” Before I could say anything else to reassure her, a loud, theatrical wail erupted behind me. My mom threw herself forward like the lead actress in a soap opera, snatching Stella into a crushing hug. “My poor, suffering daughter!” My lip twitched. I silently sidestepped to give my dad and Connor space to join the performance. The four of them huddled together in a weeping mass. It was an Emmy-worthy display of family drama. I stood on the sidelines, watching their raw display of emotion. A tiny, fleeting sting of loneliness brushed against my heart. But it vanished quickly. I shook it off. While they were immersed in their sentimental reunion, I quietly backed away. I turned and bolted up the stairs, my movements swift and efficient as I started packing. The very first thing I did was pick up the book titled High Society Etiquette from my nightstand and chuck it straight into the trash can. Twenty minutes later, I appeared at the top of the stairs, dragging a massive suitcase. The expressions on my family’s faces instantly solidified into pure shock. “Harper Thorne! What are you doing? Have you lost your mind?!” Connor barked. “I’m just clearing space for my sister.” Stella stood to the side, looking utterly lost. “You don’t have to…” I saw how overwhelmed she was, so I patted her kindly on the shoulder. “Sweetie, do you know what the rules are in this house?” 04 She shook her head blankly. I started counting them off on my fingers. “Mandatory six AM morning runs. Strict eight PM curfews. No speaking allowed while eating. All romantic partners must be vetted and approved by the family board…” “Oh, right, I remember my very first date when I was seventeen. The family sent three bodyguards to follow us. They literally scared the poor guy so badly he transferred out of state the next day.” Her face went pale, inch by inch, and she looked at our parents with genuine terror. My mom interrupted me. “Harper! Stop scaring your sister!” “I’m not scaring her. I’m just listing the Tuesday schedule.” Connor was the quickest to react. He was the first to realize I was actually serious. He took a long stride, blocking my path. “You’ve been pampered and spoiled your entire life. Do you honestly think you can survive outside the Thorne estate?” I stopped and gave him a mysterious smile. “Connor, take a wild guess at how much secret slush-fund money I’ve saved up over the years.” “To be perfectly honest, right now, I just feel like thanking the heavens for finally setting me free.” Connor: “…” Stella grabbed the sleeve of my faux-fur jacket, tears welling in her eyes. “Sister, please don’t go…” I patted her head affectionately. “Be a good girl. You’re the sole hope of the dynasty now.” With that, I gave a cheerful, dramatic wave. I shoved my suitcase forward and walked out of the mansion without a single backward glance. “Good luck! I’m going to go pursue happiness!” Outside, my best friend Mia was waiting in her blacked-out SUV. Her jaw practically dropped when she saw my outfit. “Harper, are you running away to join a rock band?” I clattered down the driveway in my stilettos, breaking into a light jog. “This isn’t running away, it’s a jailbreak!” I buckled my seatbelt and yelled, “Go, go, go! Drive! Before they realize I’m actually leaving.” As the engine roared to life, I took one last look at the sprawling estate where I had spent over twenty years. I let out a laugh that sounded suspiciously like a supervillain. “I, Harper Thorne, am finally free!” Maybe it was my imagination, but as we drove away, I swore I heard my mom scream from the front door: “Stop her! She packed my vintage crocodile Birkin bag!!!” 05 “Alright, girl. Where are we going to celebrate?” Mia’s words reminded me of my new reality. Celebrate. Damn right. An event of this magnitude required a massive celebration. I excitedly rubbed my hands together. I pulled out the “Top 100 Things to Do After Escaping the Thorne Dynasty” note from my phone and passionately announced: “First stop: Greasy street-cart tacos! Second stop: The spiciest, cheapest ramen joint! Third stop: Late-night food truck burgers!” Outside the open windows, the wind rushed past. It carried the chaotic scents of the city, the smell of street food, the heavy aroma of fried onions and smoke. Back in the mansion, every single bite I ate was monitored by a private chef. Nothing that could make me gain weight. Nothing that could affect my complexion. Nothing with a strong smell was allowed. But now, I hung my head out the window and let out a triumphant cheer, screaming into the night sky: “Screw debutante etiquette! I’m going to eat whatever the hell I want!” “Okay, settle down. With your pampered, sensitive stomach, three bites of that street food and you’ll be in the ER,” Mia deadpanned, before adding meaningfully, “And besides, are you acting like Grayson Pierce doesn’t exist?” I instantly choked on my own laughter, my arrogant energy vanishing like smoke. Grayson Pierce. That name was like a bucket of ice water poured directly over my head. Mia saw my silence and clicked her tongue. “What? Scared now?” I forced a smile. “I’m not scared. But the engagement is a core exchange of business interests between two empires. The only reliable partner is a biological daughter. Who the hell am I in this scenario?” It was smarter to just proactively create some distance. “Please. You two grew up together. Grayson, to you…” “You’re overthinking it,” I said, shaking my head. “It’s a business arrangement. He’s cold and ruthless. He doesn’t care if his fiancé is Harper Thorne, Stella Thorne, or even my brother Connor, as long as they represent the Thorne family.” Who was Grayson Pierce? At sixteen, he was already forcing veteran negotiators to break into a cold sweat at the boardroom table. At twenty, he took over the family business, and his methods were so brutal they terrified the entire corporate world. He was the undisputed king of the business elite. Feelings were probably the least valuable commodity to him. I thought about it, my heart breaking just a little bit. “He used to be my fiancé, but now he’s just going to be my brother-in-law.” 06 The next day, I woke up around noon with a massive hangover. It felt like a freight train had parked on my skull. I groggily dragged myself out of bed. The sun was blindingly bright outside. I squinted at my phone—1:30 PM. Perfect. I had successfully slept through breakfast and lunch. Classic me. My phone was saturated with notifications from Mia’s text bombing: “Well? How was it? Was last night with Grayson enjoyable? Did you guys unlock any new locations? On the bed? On the sofa? In front of the mirror? Against the floor-to-ceiling windows? “Don’t thank me. I know you’ve been thirsting after his body for years, so it was only natural you couldn’t control yourself~” [Winking emoji.gif] “And honestly, Grayson looks incredible in a suit. I kinda want to bury my face in his chest, too.” ? What Grayson? What is she talking about? I rubbed my temples violently, trying to mine any shred of memory from the blackout, but my mind was a total void. I scrolled down to find one last notification. It was a video. The moment I clicked play, I almost threw my phone across the room. … In the video, my face was flushed red, my eyes were unfocused, and I was standing on a plastic folding chair outside a food truck. I was staring up at the night sky at a dramatic angle, looking incredibly moody, taking a loud sip from a juice box. Then, I spoke with profound seriousness: “Mia, you need to remember this—love will betray you, but cheesecake never will.” Mia’s voice came from off-camera, dripping with disdain: “? Speak English.” In the video, I dramatically pointed a single finger at the camera lens. With my other hand, I slowly pulled a snowy white chef’s hat from my tote bag and solemnly placed it on my head. My voice was funereal: “The old Harper Thorne is dead. “Standing before you now is the new and improved Harper— “The woman who is going to make sure this entire city has to wait three hours in line for her signature cheesecake!” Mia’s laugh was so violent the camera shook uncontrollably. “Haha, you total dork… wait!” Her voice suddenly cut off. “Look behind you…” In the video, I scoffed, not even bothering to look back. “Nice try. Last time we went to the club, you used the exact same…” The next second, the Harper in the video froze completely. Because in the lens, a long, pale, elegant hand had reached out and rested on my shoulder. In the video, I turned my head drunkly, locking eyes with a familiar pair of calm, slightly resigned eyes. It was Grayson Pierce. 07 Grayson Pierce was dressed in a perfect, tailored suit, his tie flawlessly knotted. He looked utterly out of place amidst the chaos and grease of the late-night food truck lot. And there I was, standing on a plastic chair, wearing a chef’s hat, waving around a juice box. The air in the video seemed to solidify. The Harper in the video blinked, then suddenly burst into a massive grin and poked him in the cheek. “Huh? Why would Grayson Pierce appear in a place like this? Am I dreaming…” I leaned in close to Grayson, squinting at him through a drunken haze. “But why is this Grayson Pierce so cold? He isn’t even smiling…” As I spoke, I suddenly grabbed his face with both hands and forced the corners of his mouth upwards— Manually giving him a “smile.” I had pushed his expensive glasses completely askew. Behind the lenses, the calm, unperturbed eyes actually widened in shock, his long lashes fluttering. The video cut off. Me: “…” My phone clattered onto the bed. I slid out of bed and onto the floor, burying my face in my hands, letting out a scream of pure despair. “Just kill me—” Just as I was contemplating how to gracefully fake my own death, my phone rang again. Caller ID: [The Iceman] I scrambled to pick up the phone, my voice trembling with guilt. “H-hello??” On the other end of the line, his voice was low, carrying a hint of exhaustion I couldn’t quite place: “You’re awake?” “Y-yeah, I’m awake…” I was reduced to a terrifying puddle of nerves. “Head hurt?” “I’m… I’m okay…” “Okay. The kitchen is on the second floor of my place. The housekeeper prepared some hangover soup for you.” Your place? I suddenly realized something. I looked around the room. It was a strange bedroom, decorated in an extremely minimalist black, white, and grey style. There was a half-finished iced Americano on the nightstand. This was Grayson Pierce’s bedroom! “Wait! Why am I at your house?” 08 There was a silence on the other end for about two seconds. “Last night you drank too much. You threw up all over me, and you got your own clothes dirty. “I said I would take you back to the Thorne estate, but you grabbed a streetlamp and refused to let go, saying, ‘I am never going back there, even if I die.’ “And then you grabbed my sleeve and asked me if I would run away with you, and asked if I was willing…” Me: “…” “Mia seemed to remember she had some kind of emergency. She took her car keys and left immediately, looking like she had made a solemn vow.” “So, I had no choice but to bring you back to my place.” My toes were already curling so hard I could have dug a trench in the hardwood floor from pure embarrassment. “So… so nothing happened, right? Like, nothing… nothing, or we didn’t do anything we shouldn’t have, right?” “…You don’t remember any of it?! Last night you…” His tone sounded genuinely incredulous, but he cut himself off halfway through the sentence. My heart rate instantly spiked to 180. A million explicit scenarios flashed through my mind. On the bed. On the sofa. In front of the mirror. Against the floor-to-ceiling windows. We… couldn’t have actually… done it… right? Harper Thorne, this is your future brother-in-law! You are an absolute animal! “I remember, I remember! It’s just… maybe I don’t remember… everything…” I gave a couple of dry chuckles, trying to hide the fact that I remembered absolutely nothing. From the receiver, I heard the sound of a fountain pen tapping on a desk. Tap—tap—tap— each one hitting my tightening nerves. A moment later, a faint, almost imperceptible sigh came from the other end: “Harper.” “Here!” I snapped, reacting automatically, standing up straight like a soldier at roll call. “You said yesterday…” He paused. “You wanted to open a bakery?” My heart skipped a beat. “Y-yeah…” “Do you need an investor?” I immediately waved my hands frantically, even though he couldn’t see me. This little business didn’t need investment. I had already done the math. With the cash I had saved up over the years, plus the money I would get from selling the designer bags I snagged from the house, I had more than enough to lease a commercial space! “No, no, I’m good. I have the money. Just make sure you come to my shop and support my business!” “Okay,” he agreed readily. “On opening day, I’ll be there.” My eyes lit up. That’s a giant cash cow walking right into my shop! On the other end of the line, Grayson watched the city skyline from his office, a faint chuckle escaping him, his voice laced with a strange, unspoken joy. However, right before the conversation was about to end, he suddenly said something completely out of nowhere: “What if I said I was willing?” Me: “Huh?” “…Nothing.” His voice instantly returned to its usual icy calm, as if that fleeting moment of vulnerability had been entirely my imagination. “Get some rest.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “402458”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

My husband told me to stop suffocating him. He said I should go find other men to occupy my time. Being the obedient wife I am, I went out and found three. Later, those three men demanded I make a choice and commit to them. So, being obedient once again, I asked my husband, Elias, for a divorce. But suddenly, Elias claimed he was madly in love with me. He fought the divorce tooth and nail. He actually cried while washing my underwear, pleading with me. “You can bring them here. The five of us can live together as one family. But divorce? Absolutely not!” So, I listened to Elias and didn’t get a divorce. And I brought all three of them home to live with us. I’m just an obedient woman. What did I do wrong? 1 In the seventh year of loving Elias Thorne, I finally married him. Just as I was filled with joy, ready to be the perfect wife, Elias cheated. He made the trending tabloids kissing a hot young A-lister. Looking at the photos felt like being struck by lightning. I went to him, crying, demanding answers. But he just looked at me with pure annoyance. “Alana, don’t you have anything better to do with your life? Is hovering over me every single day supposed to be fun? Tell you what—why don’t you go find some guys to play around with, and stop bothering me, okay?” I stared at Elias, utterly dumbfounded. The words coming out of his mouth were horrifying. How could I just go out and randomly find men to “play around” with? But I had always been obedient. So, I sought out Elias’s best friend, Bennett St. James. 2 Bennett St. James. The man the entire elite business circle feared and respected. Rumor had it he was cold, completely detached from worldly desires, and never let women get close to him. My hands were shaking as I typed the text. I wrote it and deleted it, over and over. Finally, I just sent: “Mr. St. James, do you have time to meet? Elias told me to… find someone to play with.” After sending it, I threw my phone across the room, my cheeks burning with shame. Elias’s best friend shouldn’t count as just a “random guy,” right? I just didn’t know if he would agree… Surprisingly, my phone buzzed almost immediately. Just one word: “Yes.” The location was a very secluded, high-end tea house. When I arrived, Bennett was already there. He sat by the window. The afternoon sun filtered through the blinds, casting light over his handsome, aristocratic face, making him look even more aloof and unattainable. His long, slender fingers held a teacup. The steam rose gently, blurring his striking features. The air was filled with a calming scent of sandalwood mixed with the aroma of tea. I was so nervous I was practically shaking. I sat opposite him, my throat dry. Every word I had prepared vanished from my mind. He looked up at me, his eyes calm as a still pool, utterly unruffled. “He told you to come to me?” Bennett asked after pouring me a cup of tea. His voice was beautiful, too. Like cool, crisp water over stones. I twisted my fingers together, lowering my head. My nose stung, and I nodded vigorously. “Yes.” Silence stretched across the room. Just as I felt I couldn’t sit there any longer and wanted to bolt, he set his teacup down gently and looked at me. “When you say ‘play around’… what kind of playing did you have in mind?” 3 Bennett St. James. The man who looked so cold and detached in public actually tried to ride me to death in private. “I really can’t do anymore, please…” I was slumped on top of him, completely exhausted, my face buried in his firm chest, my body trembling. Bennett’s thumb gently wiped away the involuntary tears from the corner of my eye. He coaxed me softly, “Okay. We’ll stop after we finish this box.” Hearing Bennett’s tender voice, I lifted my head, my vision blurry with tears, and glanced at the nightstand. On the nightstand was a box labeled “Trojan, 12-pack, Magnum Size.” I looked down at the trash can. There were already five used ones inside. That meant there were still… “Ugh, you jerk!” I cried even harder. 4 Bennett frequently worked me over until my back ached and my legs felt like jelly. Eventually, I couldn’t take it anymore and secretly went to see a doctor. The doctor took my pulse, his frown deepening by the second. Finally, he sighed. “Young lady, you need to practice abstinence. Get some real rest for a while, or you’re going to shorten your lifespan.” Me: !!! What!! Doing it too much leads to an early grave?! I was terrified. I didn’t dare go see Bennett again. But since I didn’t go to him, he came to me. He actually showed up at the house I shared with Elias! When the doorbell rang, I was curled up on the sofa watching a reality show. Assuming Elias had gone out and forgotten his keys, I opened the door without checking. The moment I saw Bennett standing outside, I nearly slammed the door right back in his face. “What… what are you doing here?” My voice trembled. I instinctively tried to close the door. Bennett reached out and blocked the door frame. His strength wasn’t overwhelming, but I couldn’t move the door an inch against him. His gaze landed on my panicked face. He asked, “Why haven’t you come by to ‘play’ lately?” Play? You play so hard, who would dare to play with you?! “I… I’ve been a bit busy lately.” My eyes darted around, making up random excuses. “Busy?” Bennett raised an eyebrow slightly. He took a step forward, pressing into my space. The crisp scent of sandalwood combined with an oppressive aura washed over me. “Too busy to even answer your phone?” He forced me backward into the foyer, my heart pounding in my chest. The doctor’s warning about “shortening your lifespan” echoed wildly in my mind. “Mr. St. James, I really don’t think… this is appropriate,” I said, drumming up the courage to try and reason with him. “What happened that day was impulsive on my part. We should really…” “We should really what?” he interrupted. His gaze was calm, but held an undeniable weight. “Elias told you to play, remember? You’ve forgotten?” Mentioning Elias made me deflate instantly, like a popped balloon. That’s right. Elias made me do this. How could I not listen to him? But… I really was afraid of dying! Just as I was at a complete loss for words, Elias’s confused voice came from behind me. “Bennett? What are you doing here?” 5 Elias hadn’t gone out?! My soul nearly left my body. I spun around so fast I nearly tripped, my cheeks burning with guilt. I felt exactly like I’d just been caught in bed with another man. Bennett, however, remained completely composed. He turned to look at Elias coming down the stairs, his voice calm and flat. “Just passing through. Thought I’d swing by and check on you. I was just chatting with Alana at the door.” As Bennett spoke, his gaze drifted meaninglessly over to me. My spine went rigid instantly. Elias didn’t seem to sense anything was wrong. As he walked downstairs, he said casually, “What’s there to chat with her about? She just sits at home doing nothing all day.” Before, hearing those words would have made me sad for a long time. But now, my heart was filled only with panic, terrified that Bennett would say something outrageous. Bennett didn’t reply. He just looked at me, the corner of his lip seemingly curving into an extremely faint smirk that vanished instantly. Elias finished changing into his shoes and walked over. He naturally wrapped his arm around my waist and said to Bennett, “My brother is back in town. Since you’re here, why don’t we all grab dinner tonight? I’ll call Ryder Croft and some of the others.” My body went stiff. The spot where Elias touched me felt like it was on fire. He rarely made affectionate gestures toward me in front of others, yet today… Bennett’s gaze lingered on Elias’s hand around my waist for a fraction of a second before he looked away. He replied flatly, “Sure.” 6 Dinner was at an incredibly exclusive, private club. Besides me, Elias, and Bennett, there was also their good friend, the wealthy playboy Ryder Croft, and Elias’s younger brother, Liam Thorne. During the meal, I constantly felt like three separate sets of eyes from different directions were locked onto me. But every time I lifted my head, the four men across from me were chatting amongst themselves. No one was looking at me. Was I being too sensitive? I peeked at them again. No one was looking. I must be overthinking. I lowered my head and went back to my soup. When I finished my soup and was about to ladle another bowl, a bowl of hot soup was placed right in front of me. It was Elias. He was ladling the soup for me while chatting with the others. I was genuinely touched. I said sweetly, “Thanks, honey.” My voice was soft. Only Elias, sitting next to me, should have heard. But the other three men at the table stopped talking instantly. All of them stared straight at me. The look in their eyes… it was as if they were the ones I’d just called “honey.” And their gazes were terrifying. Like wolves looking at prey. I recoiled slightly and went back to lowering my head and sipping my soup. Elias seemed very pleased that I called him “honey.” He got even more attentive, peeling shrimp for me and putting food in my bowl. Seeing the other three looking at me from time to time, Elias even teased them, “Jealous that I have a wife? You guys need to step up and marry one of your own.” Ryder and Liam said nothing. But I noticed they were looking at me even more frequently! Only Bennett let out a somewhat wistful, faint chuckle. “I’d like to marry, but she already has a husband.” The second Bennett said that, the whole room went silent. I nearly fell out of my chair in shock. He couldn’t possibly be talking about me, could he?! Elias reacted first. His handsome brow furrowed slightly, and he reached out to steady me. “How are you so grown and still can’t sit straight in a chair?” Turning back to Bennett, he teased, “Alright, smart guy, so you’re chasing a married woman. Who cares if her husband agrees? As long as she agrees, isn’t that enough?” Elias slapped Bennett on the shoulder encouragingly. “Take it from me—no matter how sturdy the wall, a good sledgehammer can knock it down!” At Elias’s words, Bennett gave him a very meaningful look and stated with certainty, “You’re right, Elias.” Ryder and Liam also nodded in thoughtful agreement. Then they raised their glasses, called Elias “brother,” and toasted him. Elias happily accepted, even pulling me closer by my shoulder, laughing as he bragged to me about how the three of them finally got some sense and decided to call him “brother.” I forced out a smile, not daring to speak. Because I realized that underneath the table, three different legs were rubbing against me! 7 When dinner was almost over, Elias stepped out to take a call. I felt like a massive weight had been lifted. I immediately bent down to look under the table. Underneath, the three men and their six legs were all behaving perfectly. Me: ? Was I being too sensitive again? But the touch had felt so real. It didn’t seem like my imagination. While my mind was spiraling with wild thoughts, Bennett suddenly peeled a few pieces of shrimp and put them in my bowl. He said, “Eat the shrimp. I saw you liked it earlier.” Bennett’s single sentence drew Ryder and Liam’s attention directly to us. Their eyes darted back and forth between me and Bennett. Just as I started breaking out in a cold sweat, fearing they’d figured something out, Ryder was the first to act. He put a piece of fish in my bowl, smiled, and said, “I saw you go for the sweet and sour fish six times. You must really love it.” Me: ? Why did he even know how many times I took the fish? Before I could react, Liam placed a small plate in front of me. On it was all the meat from a single, perfectly butchered crab. “Eat mine,” Liam said with an innocent, harmless smile. “If you like it, I’ll peel all your crabs for you from now on.” Me: … What was happening? I seriously felt like I had fallen into a wolf’s den. 8 The three of them seemed to be competing to see who could give me more food. My bowl was never empty for even a single second. Eventually, I really couldn’t eat anymore. Since Elias had been gone to the restroom for a long time, I was worried he’d fallen in, so I got up and went out to look for him. After leaving the private room, I felt much more relaxed. I searched for Elias along the hallway. When I saw Elias out on the patio, and saw the lipstick mark on his white shirt, tears immediately poured down my face. “Why are you doing this to me?” I choked out, confronting Elias. “I did everything you told me to do. I was so obedient. And you still have to go fooling around behind my back.” I didn’t understand what I had done wrong. Was it that I still wasn’t obedient enough? Seeing me cry, Elias’s initial instinct was to reach out and wipe my tears. But for some reason, he stopped halfway. The pained expression on his face turned into annoyance. “It’s not what you think. And didn’t I tell you to stop smothering me? If you’re bored, go out and find a bunch of guys to play with. Use my credit card!” With that, he turned and left. I stubbornly called out after him, “If I listen to you, will you love me?” “Yes!” Elias snapped without looking back. I was left standing there, staring at his retreating back. So, it really was because I wasn’t obedient enough that my husband didn’t love me. As I walked back, lost in despair, someone suddenly grabbed my wrist and pulled me into a pitch-black supply closet. I immediately screamed and burst into tears. “Don’t cry. It’s me.” In the darkness, Ryder wiped away my tears, sounding deeply pained. When you can’t see, your hearing becomes sharper. Listening to Ryder’s voice, I stopped crying instantly. His voice was deep and resonant. It sent a shiver down my spine. Inevitably, I remembered what Elias had just said. He told me to go out and find a bunch of guys to play with. I was very obedient. So, with a bit of a sob in my voice, I asked Ryder, “Can you… can you play with me?” “Do you… do you have any idea what you’re saying?” In the darkness, Ryder’s voice grew even huskier. “Mm-hm.” I sniffed. Seeing that Ryder wasn’t reacting, I started to backtrack. “If you don’t want to play with me, I’ll go find…” Everything I was about to say was swallowed by Ryder’s lips. He was wild, just like his name. I could barely handle it, but it felt amazing. Just as we were about to hit the point of no return, Ryder suddenly stopped. “Hmm?” I was completely dazed, looking at him in confusion. “I don’t have a condom.” Ryder leaned down, burying his head in the crook of my neck, breathing heavily. I wanted to cry, but no tears came. The arrow was already notched, and now you’re telling me we have to stop? My whole body was wound tight and aching. I rubbed against Ryder, my voice trembling like I was about to cry. “But… I feel so uncomfortable…” After three seconds of silence, Ryder sank down to one knee. My breath caught. Suddenly, I felt like a song was playing in my head. … A විශේෂ Signal… Pushing toward a Flood… No escape… … 9 Half an hour later, I walked out of the supply closet with Ryder, my ears burning bright red. “Here. Wipe your mouth and hands.” I whispered, handing Ryder a tissue, my face scarlet. Just as Ryder was about to take the tissue, a dark, harsh voice suddenly rang out from nearby. “What are you two doing?” I instinctively looked up and saw Liam. He stood at the end of the hallway, hands in his pockets, his expression unreadable in the dim light. Those eyes, so similar to Elias’s, were locked tightly onto us—specifically on my obviously swollen lips and flushed cheeks. My heart immediately jumped into my throat. “No… nothing…” I instinctively crumpled the tissue in my hand and hid it behind my back. I said softly, “I just happened to run into Ryder…” Ryder was much calmer than me. He naturally pulled his hand back and slid it into his pocket. He took half a step sideways, unobtrusively shielding me with his shadow. He faced Liam’s scrutinizing gaze, a lazy smile pulling at his lips. “Just chatting. Why, is something wrong, Liam?” Liam took two steps forward. His eyes darted between the two of us before settling on my dodging gaze. “Nothing.” He pulled at the corner of his mouth, but the smile held no warmth. “Alana, it’s late. I’m taking you home.” “Oh, okay. Let’s go.” I didn’t think twice. I was about to follow Liam, but Ryder beat him to the punch, grabbing my arm. He chuckled lightly, looking at Liam. “Liam, you just got back to the States. You probably don’t even have a valid driver’s license here yet, do you? How are you going to take her?” I didn’t know if it was my imagination, but I felt like the atmosphere between Liam and Ryder instantly became hostile after that sentence. “It’s fine. I can call a cab for her.” Liam opened his thin lips, his gaze icy as he stared at Ryder. Ryder let out a low scoff. “Little boy, wait until you grow up.” With that, Ryder ignored Liam’s reaction and pulled me away. I looked back at Liam once. He stood still, not chasing after us. He just watched me with a gaze so complex I couldn’t understand it. I saw indignation, ambition, and even a faint trace of… vulnerability? 10 Ryder drove a Rolls-Royce Cullinan. It was incredibly spacious. I was exhausted and fell asleep in the car. Hazy in my sleep, I think Ryder stopped the car once to buy something. But I was so tired I didn’t pay much attention. By the time the car came to a complete stop, I was gradually waking up. I was home. Just as I unbuckled my seatbelt to get out, Ryder grabbed my hand. He held up a small box and asked, “Want to finish what we started earlier?” … This time, the song played on repeat for four hours. By the time everything finally settled, Ryder straightened my clothes, got out of the car first, and walked around to my side to carry me out. Just then, we heard the sound of a car pulling into the driveway. It was Elias. He was completely wasted. His assistant was struggling to help him out of the back seat after parking the car. “Urgh… Ryder?” Seeing Ryder, Elias squinted to identify him. His voice was slurred. “Wha’re you doin’ at my house?” Ryder appeared perfectly natural. “Just dropped Alana off.” Elias was so drunk he didn’t even notice that five hours had passed since dinner. He slapped Ryder on the shoulder, moved by gratitude. “Tha-thanks, bro. Dropping off my wife. You’re… you’re a good man!” I got out of the car a step late. Hearing that sentence made the scarlet flush rise on my face again. I was too guilty to look anyone in the eye. “It was nothing.” Ryder smiled with airy indifference, as if the man who had lost all control in the car minutes ago wasn’t him. “Alright, well, go on home then.” Elias staggered a couple of steps. He leaned heavily against me, throwing his arm over my shoulder for support. “I’ll treat you to dinner sometime!” With that, Elias stumbled into the house, dragging me with him. I didn’t even have a chance to look back at Ryder before the door was closed. 11 It took every ounce of strength I had to haul Elias up to the bedroom and onto the bed. He must have been incredibly drunk. The moment he hit the mattress, he fell fast asleep. He only mumbled incoherently, “Baby… I love you so much…” Hearing his words, I was genuinely touched. It really was true: if I listened to him, he loved me more. I secretly made a vow in my heart. I had to be even more obedient from now on, so he would love me even more! 12 When I woke up the next morning, the space next to me was empty. Elias was already gone. I instinctively reached for my phone to check the time. It was after 10 AM. Then I realized Bennett had sent me a ton of messages yesterday. Bennett: [Where are you?] Bennett: [Did you just leave with Ryder?] Bennett: [Is it because you aren’t satisfied with me?] Bennett: [You can tell me if you aren’t satisfied. Just don’t stop playing with me, okay?] … Bennett sent dozens of messages. The further down I read, the more they made my face burn and my heart pound. I didn’t dare reply to any of them. Exiting the chat with Bennett, I saw that Ryder had also sent me messages. He told me to drink lots of water and stay hydrated. He also sent me ten million dollars via Venmo. After freshening up, I went downstairs, still in my pajamas. As I walked downstairs, still half-asleep, I suddenly froze and stared at the living room. Liam was sitting on the sofa, holding a coffee cup, casually watching TV. He looked so comfortable, as if he belonged there. He even greeted me naturally. “Liam? What are you doing here?” I asked in astonishment. Liam gave me a sunny, innocent smile. “I just got back to the States. I’m scared to live alone, so when Elias found out, he told me to move in here.” “M-move in?” I was utterly confused. “Yeah.” Before I could react, Liam put down his coffee cup, stood up, and walked toward me. At 19, Liam was wearing a white button-down shirt. He looked fresh and clean. He walked right up to me and looked down at me, his eyes filled with a trace of pitiful pleading. “Is嫂嫂 (Alana) not happy I’m here?” “I…” I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t think I was imagining it, but I felt like the way he looked at me wasn’t quite right. I felt uneasy about him moving in. Just as I was at a complete loss for words, Liam spoke again, his face filled with sorrow. “If Alana finds it inconvenient, I’ll go back to the family estate and live by myself! I’ve been used to being alone ever since my parents divorced and sent me abroad, anyway.” After Liam finished speaking, his puppy-dog eyes were red-rimmed. He looked at me, his voice choking slightly. “I’m sorry, Alana. I’m causing you trouble. It’s my fault. I just crave family affection so much.” Seeing Liam so utterly heartbroken and fragile, any trace of doubt or awkwardness I had was immediately swamped by a massive wave of guilt and pity. What bad intentions could he possibly have? He was just a pitiful child who wanted to live with his family! Elias told me to take good care of him, so how could I push him away just because I was being sensitive? I immediately reached out and stopped him from dragging his suitcase away. I said urgently, “You are not leaving! You live here! This is your home!” “Thanks, Alana!” Liam smiled instantly. His eyes sparkled, and all traces of sadness vanished without a trace. “You’re the best!” Just as we were talking, Elias rushed through the door. “Why are you back at this hour?” I asked. Elias looked stressed and overwhelmed. He was rushing up the stairs to his office, talking as he went. “There’s a sudden crisis with the major overseas project. I have to fly out immediately to fix it.” Five minutes later, Elias ran downstairs with a stack of documents. “Brother.” Liam called out to him. Elias only just noticed Liam, but he didn’t have time for specifics. He offered a quick greeting and headed for the door. Before leaving, he said to me, “Alana, take good care of Liam while I’m gone. I’ll be back in about a month. When I get back, we need to talk…” Elias was talking as he bolted out the door.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “402457”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

Here is the thing about amnesia: it really messes with your perspective. Apparently, before the accident, I was the resident mean girl. A real piece of work. I found out via group text. I sent out a blast to my contacts: [Hey guys, super awkward, but I have amnesia. Who are you again…?] My phone immediately started blowing up. First, from my childhood best friend, the brooding, untouchable type I apparently used to torment: [Is this some twisted new game to torture me? I left dinner downstairs. Make sure you eat.] Next, from my overly protective stepbrother, whom I used to treat like dirt: [Are you still mad at me? I wired some allowance to your card. I’ll come home to keep you company tonight.] Finally, from the gorgeous, popular girl I apparently lived to harass: [Acting again? If you have amnesia, go back to sleep. I already signed you in for class.] Me: “?” Hold on. Did I misremember my own life? Based on these texts, I was living in some reverse-harem romance novel where everyone secretly adored me. 01 Doctors and nurses hurried back and forth in the hospital room, the air thick with the sharp, sterile scent of disinfectant. I propped myself up, wincing as a wave of dizziness washed over me. A few feet away, a doctor was talking to a middle-aged man in a sharp suit. “How is she doing?” “Miss Davis’s amnesia isn’t too severe. She just seems to have forgotten certain specific people…” Listening to their conversation, I froze. Amnesia? How could I have amnesia? “I don’t think I have amnesia!” I couldn’t help but interrupt. “I know my name is Harper Davis. My dad is Richard Davis, and my mom is Margaret.” The middle-aged man turned his head and asked me with a gentle, patient tone, “Then do you remember who I am, Miss?” I nodded quickly. “Of course, you’re our family’s butler, Mr. Thomas.” The man remained silent for a long moment, his expression complicated. “Miss… I’m your family’s driver. And my name isn’t Thomas. I’m George.” Me: “?” He sighed and turned back to the doctor. “Thank you for your hard work, Doctor. I’ll go contact her parents.” From their brief exchange, I learned that I had accidentally tumbled down the stairs at the campus library. After passing out, my classmates had rushed me to the hospital. When they left the room, I finally snapped out of my daze and started scrolling through my phone. Looking at the pinned contacts at the top of my messages, if it weren’t for my parents’ familiar numbers, I would have sworn I picked up a stranger’s phone. A contact saved as “Coldhearted Monster” happened to send two messages right then. [Be downstairs in thirty minutes to pick up your food.] [I’m too lazy to bring it up to your door.] I racked my brain but couldn’t recall who this guy was. I could only ask him: [Could you please buy me lunch?] He replied quickly, but every word felt sharp enough to cut. [Buying the princess her lunch is my literal duty.] [But next time, could you tell me in advance if you want food from off-campus?] [Otherwise, standing in line for thirty minutes really delays your dining schedule.] Wow. This guy was charming. But now wasn’t the time to eat. I quickly replied: [Never mind, I’m not eating today.] The other side went silent for a while. Even though I couldn’t see his face through the screen, I could feel a faint sense of anger radiating from his texts. [Is it because the breakfast I brought you this morning wasn’t to your taste?] [So you’re throwing a tantrum again, is that it?] I hurriedly explained: [No, I promise. I have amnesia T_T.] He mocked: [Is this the princess’s new trick to torture me?] Me: “?” Was I really that awful? Afraid he wouldn’t believe me, I sent him a picture. [I’m really not lying. Look, I’m still lying in a hospital bed.] For a long time, there was no reply. I guessed he had either fainted from anger or was just too lazy to deal with me. I started scrolling through our chat history. This “Coldhearted Monster” routinely helped me pick up food, grab my packages, and buy me lattes. Sometimes, he even took orders to do my assignments and let me copy his answers for exams. But my attitude towards him was far from friendly. I always spoke to him in a bossy, commanding tone. A wave of guilt washed over me. How could I talk to a classmate like that? “Harper—” The hospital room door was suddenly pushed open, and a young man rushed in. He wore a simple white short-sleeved button-down. He had a clean, refined face with striking bone structure. Even the fingers gripping the takeout box were pale and slender. I stared at him, momentarily dazed. Some people might get amnesia. But their core appreciation for good looks never changes. My standards for my ideal type hadn’t changed either. I looked up at him and asked cautiously, “You are?” He stiffened. He pursed his lips, lowered his eyes, and asked, “You don’t remember who I am?” I frowned in deep thought. “Are you the Coldhearted Monster?” His expression turned complicated. “…My name is Noah Wright.” Noah reached out, wanting to check the injury on my forehead. “You fell down the stairs? Is it serious?” Seeing me flinch, he stiffly lowered his hand, his tone turning cold. “I’m not worried about you. I’m just afraid that if you bumped your head, you’d try to pin the blame on me again.” In just a few short sentences, he sketched out a picture of how selfish and spoiled I used to be. The guilt in my heart deepened. Seeing that I wasn’t speaking, he asked in a low voice, “You really don’t remember who I am?” I answered honestly, “I don’t remember, but looking at our chat history, you must be the guy who always runs errands for me.” Noah: “…Not exactly.” I looked up suspiciously. He took a deep breath and spoke slowly. “We are childhood sweethearts.” When I still didn’t say anything, Noah added flatly, “And yes, we were also arranged to be engaged when we were kids.” I was shocked. “What? But our chat history doesn’t look like that at all… I thought you were just a classmate I wasn’t close with.” Noah laughed out of pure frustration. “If it wasn’t for that relationship, who would be willing to run your errands every single day?!” “Who would go out of their way to buy you food and save you a seat?” I defended myself in confusion: “But you just said buying my food was your duty.” Noah raised an eyebrow slightly. “Yeah, isn’t it the duty of a fiancé?” Just then, George the driver walked into the room. He looked a bit surprised to see Noah. “Noah, you’re here?” Noah stood up politely to greet him, smiling. “I came to check on her.” George was about to find a chair to sit down, but Noah’s next words made him jump right back up. “By the way, George, Harper doesn’t believe that we grew up together.” “Tell her. Aren’t we already engaged?” George’s eyes widened. “Huh?” He looked at Noah, who seemed perfectly normal, and then at me, whose face was full of questions. After a moment of contemplation, he nodded with a complex expression. “Yeah… that’s true.” 02 The first person I saw when I woke up was George. Given how he had run around handling my admission paperwork and contacting my parents, I already had a certain level of trust in him. Looking at Noah’s expression, it didn’t seem like he was joking. I felt a secret thrill in my heart. My ideal type had suddenly transformed into my fiancé. I felt like I hit the jackpot! Sure enough, even with amnesia, you’ll still fall for the person you used to like at first sight. When George stepped out to take a phone call, Noah placed the takeout box on the overbed table and handed me some silverware. “Eat first.” I took one look and smiled. “What a coincidence, these are all my favorites.” Noah lowered his eyes, scooping some soup for me, his tone calm. “It’s not a coincidence. This is the exact menu you specifically ordered this morning.” Guilt washed over me. “…That must have been a lot of trouble for you.” Noah casually wiped his hands with a napkin, saying flatly, “It’s not like it’s just been a hassle for one day.” “I’m used to it.” I felt a surge of pity and tugged at his sleeve. “Let’s eat together then?” Noah’s body went rigid. He rubbed his nose and coughed lightly. “I only bought one portion.” I felt confused again. “Don’t we usually eat together?” Noah turned his head away, pretending to look at the scenery outside the window. “…We do, but I already ate today.” I didn’t doubt him, and my mind was finally at ease. While he was drinking water, I continued eating and chattered away with him. “Noah, actually, the moment I saw you, I felt like I remembered something.” He choked on his water, coughing violently. He almost lost his composure. “You remembered?” Noah’s voice sounded strange, lacking his initial calm and collected demeanor. I nodded. “Yeah, the first time I saw you, I thought we looked like a perfect match.” “No wonder we’re engaged. You truly are my destined husband.” I laughed. “And even though I have amnesia, my standards for my ideal type haven’t changed at all.” “My imaginary husband looked exactly like you.” Noah: “…” A flush of crimson slowly crept up his flawless face, and the tips of his ears turned bright red. Noah scrambled up so fast he almost knocked over the overbed table. Me: “?” Noah tried his hardest to steady his nerves, but his flushed cheeks betrayed his current mood. He waved his phone. “Um… my study group just sent a notification. I have to head back for a bit.” “I need to submit some data to my advisor this afternoon.” I urged him understandingly, “Then hurry back! I feel much better. I’ll just rest by myself this afternoon and I’ll be fine.” Noah nodded, softening his tone. “I’ll come back and check on you later tonight.” He practically sprinted out of the hospital room as if he were fleeing. I couldn’t help but sigh at how exhausting grad school must be nowadays. A message from an advisor was like a death warrant. George happened to return from the hallway. Seeing me alone, he looked surprised. “Noah left?” I nodded, smiling. “Yeah, he said he’d come back to see me later.” George let out a sigh of relief and then discussed things with me. “The doctor thinks it’s best if a family member comes to the hospital.” “Since your parents are out of the country right now and can’t get back immediately, should I contact your brother?” Brother? I had a brother? Seeing my blank look, George gave an “I expected as much” expression. He took my phone, tapped the screen a few times, and handed it back to me. “This is your brother.” I looked down. A profile picture of a beagle wearing sunglasses caught my eye. His contact name was: “Trust Fund ATM” The daily conversations in the chat were pitifully sparse, consisting almost entirely of his transfer history to me. And occasionally, if someone made me mad, he would immediately step in to fix the problem. His response speed was so fast, it felt like I had purchased a VIP premium service. “Harper, you probably don’t remember, but Mason is your brother. Not by blood, though—he was adopted by your parents.” “He’s three years older than you and has always taken great care of you.” George explained. I understood and sent a message to the contact. [Brother.] He replied almost instantly. He sent fifty question marks in a row. Although I didn’t understand what he was so shocked about, I honestly continued typing. [Are you free right now?] Trust Fund ATM: [I’m free! What’s wrong? Did someone bully you again?] Trust Fund ATM: [Send me their info, I’ll go teach them a lesson.] Trust Fund ATM: [Do you need pocket money? I’ll wire it right now.] Trust Fund ATM: [Also, what did you just call me? Can you call me that one more time T_T…] What a weird brother. What a weird request. But I obliged him: [Brother, can you come to the hospital for a bit?] He sent another row of question marks. Immediately after, a voice call came through. I’ve always hated answering phone calls. Even with amnesia, that hadn’t changed. So I mercilessly hit the decline button. Trust Fund ATM: [? Why aren’t you answering the phone? What happened?] Trust Fund ATM: [Are you a scammer?!] Trust Fund ATM: [Scammers rot in hell. Give the phone back to her, or I swear to God I will end you.] Me: […I just don’t want to answer the phone. Too lazy.] Trust Fund ATM: [Oh, then it is you.] Me: [I have amnesia.] He sent another row of question marks. It really matched his profile picture perfectly. Trust Fund ATM: [Then do you still remember who I am?] I was getting a little annoyed: [I know, aren’t you my brother?] Trust Fund ATM: [Yes, yes, yes!! I am your absolute favorite brother!!] Please don’t add weird modifiers to yourself, okay? I pretended not to see it: [If you have time, can you come to the hospital? The doctor needs to see a family member.] Trust Fund ATM: [Send me the address.] After sending the location, I added, afraid he’d worry: [Don’t worry, my condition isn’t too serious.] Trust Fund ATM: [Okay, your brother will be right there ^^.] I reassured him: [No rush, George is keeping me company in the room, and my fiancé just came to see me too.] There was a moment of silence from the other end. Soon after, another row of shocked question marks arrived. Trust Fund ATM: [FIANCÉ?? Who the hell is that!!?] 03 Not long after, Mason arrived in a hurry. He was still wearing a dress shirt and suit pants, but his clean-cut short hair and the stud in his left ear completely clashed with his outfit. “Harper…” Mason sat by my bed, his face full of emotion and expectation. “So, after your amnesia, you only remember me?” Me: “Uh, actually, I didn’t remember you either…” Mason: “?” I held up my phone in front of him and kindly said, “George told me that the person with this profile picture is my brother.” Mason glanced at the phone, his mouth twitching. “Why is my contact name ‘Trust Fund ATM’?” I felt like everyone I met today should be hospitalized instead of me. “If I knew that, would it still be called amnesia?” Mason: “I suppose that makes sense…” Even though my stepbrother didn’t look entirely reliable, he was currently my only family member around. I tugged at his sleeve and asked softly, “Brother, can I be discharged? I want to go home.” Mason’s heart completely melted into a puddle. “No problem! I’ll go handle the paperwork right now!” He walked briskly toward the door, then turned back and cleared his throat. “By the way, Harper, I forgot to tell you something.” I looked up suspiciously. Mason took a deep breath and whispered earnestly, “You’ve always called me ‘Brother’ at home.” … Half an hour later, I was sitting in the car heading home. Beside me, Mason kept asking, “Do you want anything to drink? Do you want some snacks?” I shook my head, smiling. “No thanks, Brother.” Mason: “Ah… then do you want to listen to music? Do you want to play a video game?” I continued to shake my head. “Thank you, Brother, but don’t worry about it.” Mason carefully savored the way I addressed him, finally withdrawing his gaze in pure satisfaction. I scrolled through our chat history and voiced my doubts. “Brother, why do I feel like our relationship wasn’t very good before?” Mason bristled like a wild dog with its fur standing up. “Who said that?! Who said that?!” I shoved the phone in front of him and said honestly, “I saw it myself. And my tone when talking to you wasn’t very nice…” Mason looked like he was about to cry tears of emotion. “It wasn’t bad at all! I thought it was incredibly nice.” Me: “?” Bro, are you okay? In the chat history, I used to boss Mason around like a dog. If there was even the slightest thing I wasn’t happy about, I inevitably cursed him out terribly. Yet Mason never fought back or defended himself; he just silently endured it. And at the end, he would even say: [Stop being mad, it’s all your brother’s fault. I transferred some money to you, go buy a bag and cheer yourself up.] How could I have been so awful! Mason started listing my virtues. “Look, normally when someone bullies you, you tell me to go beat them up. Isn’t that because you care about my health, worrying that I’ll develop a beer belly and become a greasy middle-aged man, so you make sure I exercise and stretch my bones?” “Also, every week you ask me to send you money. Why? Because you know I’d just waste it, so you cut off the waste at the source! Besides, the things you bought weren’t just junk; you bought gold and designer bags. What is that? That’s an investment! You were managing my finances for me!” “Even if you used to be a little blunt, it doesn’t matter. We’re family. As the saying goes, the words from the people you love the most hurt the most. You loved me the most, so I totally understood.” Me: “?” As the car drove into a gated community, Mason held an umbrella to shade me from the sun when I got out. He suddenly asked, “By the way, you mentioned earlier that your fiancé came to see you too. Who is that?” I smiled brightly and said, “He said his name is Noah Wright. Do you know him?” Mason fell silent. After a long while, he finally gritted his teeth and cursed. “Damn it. He stole my base.” “If he spouts any sweet-talking lies, don’t you dare believe a word.” “That guy might look pure and harmless on the outside, but he’s rotten to the core and a master manipulator.” Just as he finished speaking, a scoff came from ahead. “Are you introducing yourself?” 04 My eyes fell on the girl standing on the stairs. She had her arms crossed, looking at us with a half-smile. I looked questioningly at Mason beside me. Didn’t they say I only had one brother? Did I have a sister, too? Mason: “Uh… she’s… Stella.” As he said this, Mason carefully gauged my reaction. “She’s Maria’s daughter. Maria is the nanny who works for our family.” “Her house is currently being renovated, so Mom and Dad told her to stay here on the weekends.” Earlier in the car, George had mentioned that there was a nanny who had taken care of us for over twenty years. That must be Maria. Seeing that I had no reaction, Mason whispered in my ear, “We don’t need to pay attention to her. Let’s just go back to your room and rest.” “Don’t forget to take your medicine later.” Hearing this, Stella slightly raised an eyebrow. But she nonchalantly stepped aside to let us pass. As I walked up the stairs, I saw Stella still standing near the front door. Sensing my gaze, she lifted her eyelids and gave me a look. Stella was very pretty. The kind of pretty that would make people do a double-take if they passed her on the street. Her eyes had a slight upward tilt at the corners, adding an air of cool detachment. I tilted my head and smiled, waving at her. Stella looked stunned for a moment. Early the next morning, I received several video calls in a row from my parents. My mom was crying on the other end of the screen. I comforted and coaxed her, assuring her that the doctor could come to the house anytime to check on my recovery. They finally felt relieved. Right after hanging up, I heard a commotion downstairs. I shuffled out in my slippers and peeked over the railing. Both Mason and Noah looked furious. Meanwhile, Stella sat on the couch, watching TV as if she had all the time in the world. Mason gritted his teeth, glaring angrily. “You actually took advantage of her amnesia to say you’re her fiancé?! Do you have no shame?!” Noah poured himself a glass of water, acting like no one else was in the room. “I wasn’t lying. We were already engaged.” Mason looked like he wanted to punch him. “You call that an engagement?! Neither of you even showed up for the dinner! You used to act like sworn enemies, fighting every time you saw each other!” “You always hated it when she ordered you around using the ‘fiancée’ title. Why didn’t you mention that?” Noah considerately corrected the inaccuracies in his statement: “That’s not true. Before high school, we got along quite well. You’re misremembering.” “Is that the main point?!” Mason was so angry he could have fainted. “I have never seen anyone as shameless as you.” Stella, who had been watching for a long time, lazily chimed in. “You haven’t seen much of the world, then. I think you’re pretty shameless, too.” Mason: “?” Stella yawned. “You still insisted she call you ‘Brother’ when you didn’t even deserve a name in this house. Wasn’t your nickname always just ‘Hey’?” “And saying she clung to you the most at home? From what I saw, you were the one acting like a clingy stray dog.” Mason finally snapped back to reality, laughing out of sheer anger. “I was so busy dealing with Noah, I forgot about you.” “Stella, this is my house! Watch your tone!” Stella looked up nonchalantly. “I know. If your parents hadn’t asked me to stay, do you think I’d want to be here?” The tension between the three of them downstairs was explosive; it had become an absolute chaotic battleground. I hesitated for a moment before speaking up. “What are you guys talking about?” The three of them abruptly looked up at me on the second floor. Mason was the first to react. He quickly put on a smile. “Harper, we were just chatting.” Me: “?” Don’t you think your “chatting” tone was a little too vicious? I tilted my head, my gaze bypassing him to look at Noah behind him. “Noah, why are you here too?” Noah rightfully pushed Mason aside and walked toward me. His tone was much softer. “I came to take you back to campus.” Mason grabbed his collar. “You’re taking her? Am I dead to you?” They both looked at me simultaneously. “Harper?” Me: “…” My gaze fell on Stella, who was sipping tea, completely unbothered and acting as if none of this concerned her. “Stella, do you also go to Stanford?” She clearly hadn’t expected the conversation to suddenly involve her. She was taking a sip of tea and suddenly choked. She forced herself to remain composed, wiped her mouth with a napkin, and looked up at me with a complex expression. “Yeah, why?” I smiled, my eyes sparkling. “Then let’s go back together.” 05 On the way back, I could count the number of times Stella spoke to me on one hand. To ease the tension, George the driver kept giving me background information on her. I finally learned that Stella used to come over to play at my house all the time when we were kids. Even though she was the nanny’s daughter, my parents adored her. She had always been quiet and introverted, the complete opposite of my personality. George was so used to talking about it that he completely dropped his filter. “Harper, you and Stella grew up together. If there was some conflict later on, you just need to talk it out. You guys are still good friends.” I frowned slightly. “I had a conflict with Stella?” Two coughs sounded next to me, and Stella quickly changed the subject. She looked at me with her cold, clear voice. “Your brother said you have amnesia. Are you sure you’re not just acting again?” Before I could answer, George quickly chimed in. “Of course not! I was the one who handled the hospital admission paperwork for her!” Stella choked on her words and went silent. I watched her rest her head on her hand and stare out the window, wondering what she was thinking. I couldn’t help but whisper. “Stella, what kind of person was I before?” Stella didn’t turn around, but her words were directed at me. “Why don’t you ask Mason and Noah?” I cupped my face and let out a long sigh. “Half of what they tell me is true and half is fake. They’ve praised me to the heavens. I don’t believe them.” “So you believe me?” Stella turned to look at me, casually listing my offenses. “You were selfish, arrogant, bossy, and mean.” “If things didn’t go exactly your way, you’d throw a massive tantrum, like you were possessed by a demon.” I froze. Stella’s tone was flat. “Do you believe me when I say that about you?” After a moment of thought, I nodded. This time, she was the one who was stunned. “I think you’re absolutely right. I must have been a really terrible person before.” I said with earnest guilt, “I read my chat history. I definitely wasn’t as nice as those two made me out to be.” Stella frowned slightly, opening her mouth, but ultimately remained silent. “Then… did I bully Mason a lot?” I asked worriedly. “You stayed at my house often, you must know, right?” Stella didn’t pull her arm away even though I was tugging at it, which she clearly wasn’t used to. She paused, resting her head on one hand, and said casually. “Yes, Mason was your number one lackey.” “Whatever you wanted, he gave it to you. Even if you wanted the stars in the sky, he’d probably call NASA to get them.” “He spoiled you the most since you were little. But if he failed to do exactly what you ordered, you would either hit him or scream at him.” I subconsciously swallowed hard, my nose stinging, my voice trembling. “I… I hit him?” My palms throbbed faintly. I remembered Mason’s indulgent smile from earlier that day. I really wished I could punch myself. Stella shot me a look, her expression complex. “What are you thinking? Of course not punching and kicking…” I was dumbfounded. “Huh? Then what was it?” Stella waved her hand, sounding awkward. “It’s not polite to say. Just consider it the ‘reward’ you gave him.” “Anyway, he seemed to enjoy it.” The car pulled up to the campus gates. Stella headed straight toward the academic buildings. Halfway there, she turned around and asked me. “You have a class at ten. Are you going?” I rubbed my groggy head and asked guiltily, “Can I skip it?” Stella let out a mocking laugh. “Sure enough. Even with amnesia, the habit of skipping class is still in your blood.” I wanted to defend myself but had nothing to say. She truly was an expert in human behavior. “I’ll sign you in. If you’re not feeling well, just go back to the dorm and rest.” Stella waved at me lazily. “Go on back.” I quickly thanked her. I hadn’t expected Stella to be this nice. She wasn’t nearly as stuck-up as she seemed. I didn’t even know why I had a conflict with her in the first place. I actually really wanted to be friends with her. With these chaotic thoughts in my head, just as I turned around, I heard a barely audible sigh behind me. “Actually, you weren’t as bad as you think you were.”

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Every day, it felt like there was a line of girls trying to win over my deskmate. Cheerleaders, prom queens, the most popular girls in school—they all flocked to him. But my quiet, brooding deskmate? He didn’t have an ounce of chivalry in his body. He’d look dead into the eyes of these gorgeous girls and spit out a single word: “Leave.” It was always dripping with pure, unadulterated annoyance and apathy. Yet, that same guy would turn around, pin me against the lockers, and look at me with dark, intense eyes. His voice would carry a desperate, almost pleading edge: “Don’t like anyone else. Please.” 1 I’m just an average, background-character kind of girl. Average family, average grades, average looks—maybe cute on a good day, but definitely nothing special. My life was a predictable loop: school, homework, home. Everything was incredibly, agonizingly ordinary. I went through the motions every single day, completely content with my routine. Until, one day, I realized my life wasn’t so ordinary anymore. It all started in my junior year, when the teacher assigned me a new deskmate. His name was Arthur. He was the valedictorian, the school’s resident bad-boy genius, and undeniably gorgeous. He had a quiet, brooding personality and constantly radiated a dark, “don’t-mess-with-me” aura. He looked like he hated the world. But that didn’t matter, because he was hot, and he was smart. Naturally, he was the target of countless teenage crushes. Except for me. I had zero interest in him. My crush was on the sunny, outgoing quarterback from the class next door. Which is exactly why the teacher made Arthur my deskmate. Why didn’t she pair him with a guy? Because Arthur apparently had severe mysophobia—he was a massive germaphobe. If someone even brushed against him, he’d act like a layer of his skin had been peeled off. His face would instantly turn like thunder. Teenage boys are full of testosterone. One wrong look, and a fight would break out. With girls, he’d hold back from throwing punches, but his mouth was lethal. He’d verbally decimate them. So, I became the safest, most logical choice to sit next to Arthur. 2 My designated “persona” in class was quiet and a bit slow. Sitting next to Arthur, we minded our own business. We coexisted in total peace. We didn’t talk. We didn’t even say hi. We kept our textbooks stacked in the middle of the desk like a demilitarized zone. We had basically zero interaction. Even though his temper was notoriously bad, every morning, there would be new love letters on his desk. And every single time… he shoved them into his backpack. At first, he threw them in the trash, but people would dig them out and read them aloud. After that, he just started taking them all home. I assumed he was taking them home for a mass bonfire. Arthur never lacked girls chasing him, but recently, I’d noticed something very strange. Every few weeks, a different, highly popular girl would suddenly start making her presence known to him, trying aggressively to get his attention. And every time they failed, it was like a switch flipped. They turned into completely different people. Their personalities would change entirely. Driven by a bizarre sense of curiosity, I started observing them like a detached spectator. 3 “Arthur, I really don’t understand this calculus problem. Could you help me with it?” The girl speaking was Chloe, the captain of the debate team. She was delicate and pretty, like a daffodil. She stood next to Arthur, placing her textbook on his desk, her voice laced with manufactured shyness. Arthur slowly lifted his eyes, his gaze freezing cold. “I don’t know how to do it.” That was a blatant, bald-faced lie. He got a perfect score on every single math test. I had never seen his grade fluctuate. The smile on Chloe’s face stiffened. “Oh… okay, then.” I watched her maintain her smile and tactfully walk away. Based on the look in her eyes, I guessed she wouldn’t give up that easily. Sure enough, during P.E. class that afternoon, I saw her approach Arthur, who was resting under the shade of an oak tree, and hand him a bottle of water. “Arthur, you must be thirsty. Have some water.” “I’m not thirsty.” Arthur rejected her flat out. He then reached down, picked up his own water bottle from the grass, twisted the cap off, and took a drink. I saw Chloe clench her fists tightly behind her back. “That’s okay. I’ll just leave it here. You can drink it later if you want.” Chloe maintained her perfect, polite smile and walked away. The cool breeze under the tree rustled Arthur’s dark hair, brushing it away from his forehead. His profile looked like it was carved from marble. At an age where he should be full of youthful energy, his eyes were clouded with a heavy, suffocating darkness. He looked lifeless. Suddenly, he turned his head and caught me staring. I casually looked away, staring blankly at the clouds in the sky, acting like nothing had happened. 4 At the end of P.E. class, as we were lining up to be dismissed. Chloe let out a dramatic gasp and stumbled forward. She was standing directly in front of Arthur. However, she vastly underestimated Arthur’s coldness. He smoothly took a step to the side, watching with absolute indifference as Chloe crashed hard onto the track. His hands, hanging loosely by his sides, didn’t even twitch with a reflex to catch her. Chloe cried out in genuine pain. Her fake fall had turned into a very real, very painful face-plant. Arthur looked down at her from above. The faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth looked exactly like he was watching a clown perform a stupid trick. Starting the next day, Chloe gave up. She went back to being her normal self and stopped revolving her life around Arthur. While the teacher lectured passionately at the front of the room, the boy next to me was scribbling equations I couldn’t even begin to understand on scrap paper. Dense, complicated, and entirely incomprehensible. I noticed that whenever he was writing these formulas, his entire aura shifted. A rare, intense spark of life would ignite in his usually dead eyes. 5 Today was the day the midterm grades were posted. The entire junior class was buzzing. Arthur, who had maintained an iron grip on the number one spot since freshman year, finally had a rival. There were two students tied for first place! Right next to Arthur’s name on the ranking board was the name of a girl. Like a dark horse, she shocked everyone. The classroom was full of whispers, everyone gossiping about this new academic powerhouse. Arthur sat at his desk, completely unfazed. I looked down at my own math test—which the teacher had just finished reviewing—staring at the barely-passing grade. I let out a quiet, pathetic sigh. My sigh caught Arthur’s attention. His gaze shifted to my score. There was no disdain, no arrogance. Just a very calm, flat look. But I still discreetly flipped my test over. Looking at the perfect 100 on his test, I was genuinely jealous. The disparity between humans is truly staggering. During the break after morning announcements, a girl intercepted Arthur in the hallway. She had a high ponytail, sharp features, and was stunningly beautiful. Like a rose with thorns. “Are you Arthur?” “I tied with you for first place on the midterms! I just wanted to let you know, next time, my name is going to be above yours!” The “Rose” tilted her chin up, arrogantly declaring war on Arthur. Arthur stared at her. For a split second, I actually thought he was captivated by her beauty. But then, a flash of deep annoyance crossed his eyes. Without saying a single word, he completely ignored her and walked right past her up the stairs. The Rose’s face flushed bright red under the watchful eyes of the crowd. She yelled at his retreating back: “Arthur, don’t you look down on me! I swear I’m going to beat you!” 6 After that, the Rose always seemed to “coincidentally” run into Arthur. Every single time, she looked at him with fierce pride, her words dripping with stubborn, motivational clichés. “I’m going to crush you.” She was using reverse psychology. Trying to provoke him. But Arthur never took the bait. When the second round of midterms came, everyone was on the edge of their seats. They couldn’t wait to see how the Rose was going to crush Arthur. However, to everyone’s absolute shock, Arthur remained in first place. He got perfect scores in every subject! He even got a perfect score on the English essay! The Rose was in second place! After the grades were posted, the Rose confronted Arthur. “You just got lucky. Getting a perfect score on an essay is a fluke. I’m not giving up! Just you wait!” After delivering her speech, Arthur—who had never once responded to her—finally spoke. “You’re so annoying. Whatever you’re trying to do has absolutely nothing to do with me.” “You’re loud.” Arthur’s eyes were dark, his tone freezing cold. The Rose froze, trembling with anger. 8 The Rose went quiet. She stopped showing up. I was honestly a little curious about who the next girl trying to force her way into his life would be. Several more girls showed up over the next few months, each trying a completely different tactic to get close to Arthur. Without exception, none of them caught his attention. All they got in return was the exact same, single word: “Leave.” Among all these beautiful girls, one in particular stood out to me. She was elegant and quiet, like a jasmine flower. She was a transfer student. Unlike the others, she didn’t throw herself at Arthur the moment she arrived. For the first week, she made absolutely no move. But I knew she was definitely waiting for the perfect opportunity. Because on her very first day, during her introduction to the class, her gaze lingered on Arthur for several seconds. When it was my and Arthur’s turn to do classroom cleanup duty after school, one of the guys in our class reached out and grabbed a chocolate bar off Arthur’s desk. It was a gift from one of the girls. He hadn’t touched it; he just left it sitting there. At the time, the guy had asked, “Arthur, another girl brought you food. Are you going to eat it?” Arthur was wiping the chalkboard. He didn’t even turn around. “No,” he said flatly. The next second, the guy ripped the packaging open. “I’m starving. If you aren’t going to eat it, I will.” Arthur turned around. Seeing the chocolate already in the guy’s mouth, his eyes instantly darkened. He raised his hand and hurled the heavy, chalk-dust-covered eraser directly at the guy. It hit him square in the chest, sending a cloud of white dust into the air. “What is wrong with you?!” “I said I wasn’t going to eat it. I didn’t say you could touch my things.” Then, the two of them started throwing punches. The next day, they were hauled into the principal’s office. The guy swore up and down that Arthur threw the first punch. Arthur didn’t say a word about the chocolate. The principal told Arthur to apologize. He refused, remaining stubbornly silent. So, the principal pulled out the ultimate threat. He was going to call Arthur’s parents! Arthur’s fists instantly clenched so tight his knuckles turned white. I could practically feel the rage radiating off him. I didn’t understand why he wouldn’t just explain the situation with the chocolate. Teenage boy logic is truly bizarre. I thought about it. We were deskmates, after all. I figured I should probably step in and explain. Just as I raised my hand, the “Jasmine” girl abruptly stood up. “Principal, Arthur didn’t do anything wrong!” She recounted the entire story of what happened yesterday, clearing Arthur’s name. I looked at her, finding the whole situation incredibly amusing. So this was what she had been waiting for. 9 Half a month later, Jasmine was preparing to transfer to another school. She had failed. I was genuinely surprised. I didn’t know what had happened recently, but I had seen her and Arthur eating at the same table in the cafeteria. I thought she was special to him. That day after school, I was walking home and saw her turn into an alleyway. I remembered that it was a dead end. I was standing by a food truck, waiting for my crepe to be ready. The crepe was finished. I ate the whole thing. She still hadn’t come out. Hesitating for a moment, I walked toward the alley. Walking straight in, there was a fork to the left. As I rounded the corner, I saw Jasmine with her back to me, talking to an empty brick wall. Her usual quiet, elegant demeanor was completely gone. She was cursing and swearing. “What the actual fuck. I played this role for so long, and it didn’t do a damn thing.” “Does he have some kind of hidden mind-reading skill?” “He actually came up to me while I was eating and told me he knew I was approaching him with an ulterior motive, just like everyone else. He said he saw right through me from day one.” “I was holding back so much! I read so many ‘saving the broken bad boy’ novels before I got here. I analyzed the failures of all the girls who came before me!” “And it still didn’t work.” “This male lead’s difficulty level is SSSS. System, I am not doing this job anymore.” I stood hidden around the corner, stunned by the words I was hearing. Male lead. Strategy. System. My brain suddenly connected the dots, drawing a clear, terrifying line. I felt like I had just touched upon something massive. I slowly backed out of the alley. Under the twilight sky, a familiar silhouette appeared in my line of sight. The boy had his white baseball cap pulled low, walking on the main street ahead of me. On his pale skin, the bright red scrape near the corner of his mouth was glaringly obvious. He suddenly glanced sideways, his eyes meeting mine. His expression was dark and brooding. I looked at Arthur, my face completely blank. We stared at each other like strangers. After a brief second of eye contact, we both looked away and walked in opposite directions. Jasmine’s words kept replaying on a loop in my head. As I walked home, a faint smile tugged at the corner of my lips. How incredibly fascinating. An orange tabby cat was sitting in the branches of the oak tree by the sidewalk. It stared intently at my retreating back, and I was completely oblivious. 10 The next day, Jasmine said her goodbyes to the class. As she stepped down from the podium, passing Arthur’s desk, her face showed a mix of frustration and resignation. The cut near Arthur’s mouth looked a little better, but it was still obviously from a fight. Jasmine wanted to try one last time. She placed a Band-Aid on Arthur’s desk. I was confused. Putting a Band-Aid on a wound that had already stopped bleeding? Was that just for aesthetics? I shook my head. Arthur picked up the textbook the Band-Aid was resting on and gave it a slight shake. The Band-Aid fluttered weightlessly to the floor. Jasmine’s face twisted. She stormed back to her seat, fuming. During the passing period, I proactively went over to Jasmine and placed a pastry on her desk. “A goodbye gift for you.” She froze for a second, hesitating. “Your name is…” “I’m Harper Davis.” “Oh! You’re Arthur’s deskmate. Thank you for the gift.” I smiled, completely unbothered by the fact that she didn’t know my name. In this class, I had almost zero presence. I always stuck to my “background character” persona. “Let’s eat lunch together later.” “Oh!” She was clearly taken aback by my sudden friendliness. “I’ll wait for you after school. We can walk out together.” I finished speaking just as the bell rang. I didn’t give Jasmine a chance to refuse. I turned and went back to my seat. During that class, the English teacher was losing her voice and decided to give us a pop quiz instead of lecturing. Halfway through the quiz, the boy next to me started rummaging for something. I heard the dry, scratching sound of a pen tip digging into the paper without any ink. I glanced over and saw my deskmate, his brow furrowed with intense frustration. I pulled a box of ink refills from my backpack. Just as my fingers reached toward my pencil case, I remembered his severe germaphobia. I hesitated. Instead, I slid my hand under the desk, holding the box out to him, lightly brushing his uniform jacket to get his attention. Arthur looked at me. He was silent for a moment before pulling a single ink refill from the box. I heard a stiff, awkward, “Thank you.”

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When my parents died unexpectedly my junior year of high school, my relatives circled like vultures, eyeing the estate and the insurance payout. They harassed me constantly at my front door. Finally, unable to take it anymore, I knocked on the door of my heavily tattooed neighbor. “Hey man, are you in a gang?” 1 The car crash happened fast. My dad died on the way to the hospital. My mom didn’t make it out of the ER, but she hung on long enough to say her last few words to me. She gave me the PINs to her and my dad’s accounts, told me where the deed to the house and other valuables were kept, and her final sentence was: “Don’t trust anyone.” She didn’t even have the breath left to say anything sentimental. She was in so much pain. She just looked at me with tear-filled eyes, and then she was gone. I was still in my school uniform. I had run so fast to get to the hospital that my shoelaces were untied, and I hadn’t bothered to retie them. I knelt numbly beside my mom’s bed, listening to the doctor pronounce her dead. Faced with such overwhelming grief, the tears just wouldn’t fall. I felt disconnected, like I was moving through a dream. Eventually, I took their shattered cell phones. Feeling completely numb, I followed my mom’s final instructions, transferring all the money from their accounts into my own. The funeral was organized with the help of my parents’ friends. They put me in touch with a lawyer, and the drunk driver’s insurance company paid out a substantial settlement. And then, the relatives descended. My uncle and aunt showed up wearing brand new clothes, their eyes gleaming as they stared at my family’s modest three-bedroom, 900-square-foot house. “Noah, now that your parents are gone, your aunt and I will move in to take care of you,” my uncle announced, taking charge after barely two sentences. “But your cousins will have to come too. Your room is the biggest, so the boys can share that. How about you sleep in that little room next to the balcony?” Our house had three bedrooms. The master was my parents’, my room was a decent size, and the smallest room—which could barely fit a twin bed and didn’t even have a window—was basically a closet. The settlement details were being handled by the lawyer and my parents’ mutual friends. My relatives didn’t know the exact figures or the timeline. My uncle continued, “You’re not eighteen yet. I’ll hold onto your parents’ settlement money for you. I’ll give you a monthly allowance, and when you graduate college and get married, I’ll give the rest back.” My older cousin was already in his twenties, and my uncle was desperate to buy him a house so he could get married. Last year, he had come to my dad asking for a loan. My dad lent him a few thousand dollars, but they complained it wasn’t enough. And they had never paid back any of the money they’d borrowed in the past. “No thank you, Uncle. I can take care of myself,” I said. Their expressions instantly changed. They launched into a long, dramatic speech, even squeezing out a few crocodile tears. They said I was my parents’ only son, they were worried I wouldn’t be okay, and that my parents’ spirits wouldn’t rest in peace if I was left alone. I still refused. I was 17. I wasn’t stupid. The two people who loved me most in the world were gone. This old house, located right next to some of the best public schools in the district, was a safety net my parents had built for me since they got married. I was going to protect it no matter what. My uncle and aunt spoke sweetly, but their eyes were calculating. When I didn’t cave, my mom’s younger brother and sister showed up next, also fighting for custody. Or, more accurately, fighting for the right to live in my house and control my parents’ settlement money. 2 No matter how good the soundproofing is, it can’t withstand that kind of screaming match. They were all trying to out-shout each other. They weren’t arguing logic; they were just competing to see who could be the loudest and say the nastiest things. At first, they tried to keep up appearances, but by the end, the masks completely slipped. My mom’s brother: “He’s my sister’s son, of course he’s coming with me! Don’t think I don’t know what you’re plotting. You’re not getting a single dime of my sister’s settlement money!” My dad’s brother naturally shot back: “My sister-in-law married into our family, which makes her a Miller! Noah is a Miller! What’s wrong with me taking care of him? Sounds to me like you’re the one after the settlement money!” “…” I knew exactly what kind of people these relatives were. While my parents were alive, they constantly leached off them. Unless I had money lining my pockets, I would be nothing but a burden in their eyes. Suddenly, someone started pounding violently on the front door. Bang, bang, bang! The force was so heavy it sounded like they were going to punch a hole straight through the wood. The arguing abruptly stopped. My uncle cursed as he went to open the door: “Which blind idiot…” As the door swung open, his voice died in his throat. I looked past the other relatives in the room and saw a young man standing in the doorway. He was dressed entirely in black. He was very tall, and his tight black t-shirt showed off a massive, muscular build with sharply defined lines. More importantly, his entire right arm was covered in a sprawling tattoo sleeve. Right now, he was standing at my front door, looking incredibly annoyed, his eyes dark and menacing. My uncle, who had been so arrogant just a second ago, stuttered under the man’s intense glare: “Wh-who are you looking for?” The man spoke, his voice deep but laced with obvious anger: “Are you done screaming yet?” After delivering his warning and getting a terrified guarantee from my uncle, the heavily tattooed guy opened the door to the adjacent apartment and walked in, still looking furious. I was stunned. The apartment next door had been empty for a long time. The previous neighbors moved out after their kid went to college, and the place had been sitting on the market. It looked like it had finally sold. And that heavily tattooed guy was my new neighbor. After the door slammed shut, my aunt and uncle seemed to finally snap out of their daze, turning their heads back. “Noah, how do you have such a terrifying neighbor?” my aunt complained. I glanced at my other aunt, who was holding my hand and wiping fake tears, then looked at the rest of the people in the room—my mom’s brother, his wife, my aunt’s husband, my dad’s brother, his wife, and my older cousin. My parents had financially supported their siblings for over twenty years, yet they had never managed to get their lives together. Now, seeing me sitting on a pile of cash, I was nothing but a juicy steak to them. “Uncle David, Uncle Mark, Aunt Sarah,” I addressed them one by one, keeping my voice as calm as possible. “I’m 17 years old. I can take care of myself. You should all go home.” “What does that mean, Noah? Are you kicking your own uncle out?!” “Your parents are gone! We are your closest family now!” “…” A bunch of people who were so afraid of chipping in for funeral costs that they only showed up at the very end… what kind of “family” was that? “My house can’t fit this many people.” I crossed my arms and looked at my uncle. “Uncle David, didn’t you say I should transfer all the money to you, and you’d give it back when I get married and have kids? I’m almost a legal adult. I could find a girlfriend very soon. If you all move in now, I’ll just have to kick you out when I get married. It’s too much of a hassle…” Before I even finished my sentence, my mom’s brother howled: “What?! David Miller, you told Noah to transfer the money to you?! Have you no shame?! You’re just trying to use that money to buy a house for your son, aren’t you?!” They started fighting again, though their volume was noticeably lower this time. 3 They all wanted to stay, and none of them could stand the idea of anyone else staying. Because my apartment simply couldn’t hold all of them, they eventually dragged each other out the door. Of course, even if they wanted to stay, I wouldn’t have let them. These people didn’t seem to care what I thought, even though I was the legal owner of this house now. After locking the front door, I walked back into my parents’ bedroom. It was still filled with their things, looking no different than before. It just looked like they had gone on a business trip. But I knew they were never coming back. The emotions, acting like they were on a delay, finally surged up and hit me head-on. I sat on the floor, pulling my knees to my chest. The tears finally burst forth, and a profound, overwhelming grief swallowed me whole. For the first 17 years of my life, I had never felt this kind of loneliness. The stable, relatively happy life I had known turned out to be as fragile as a bubble, shattering completely. I hated the drunk driver. I hated him for driving under the influence, and I hated that it wasn’t him who died. He was going to prison and paying a settlement, but he couldn’t give me back my living, breathing parents. The tears fell freely, refusing to stop. Even though I was the only person left in this house, I still didn’t dare wail out loud. I just curled up in the corner and sobbed quietly. After that day, I started going back to school. But those relatives hadn’t given up on the fat piece of meat they saw me as. For the sake of the money, they didn’t even go back to their own towns. They rented cheap apartments nearby and harassed me at my front door constantly. At first, they played nice, saying they wanted to take care of me. But then my uncle brought up his son needing a house to get married and asked for a “loan.” My other uncle said he needed a new car. My aunt said her kid wanted to transfer to a better school in the city. It was like they had coordinated it. They were all trying to dig into my pockets, completely ignoring the fact that that money was the price of their siblings’ lives. They could play the victim, and of course, I could too. So, they finally dropped the act and started emotionally blackmailing me, calling me an ungrateful brat. At times like this, I was actually glad my grandparents on both sides had already passed away. I couldn’t leave my house without running into them. It felt like I was the one who owed them a massive debt, and they were the debt collectors. This couldn’t go on. I was incredibly annoyed. So, on a Sunday afternoon, I knocked on my neighbor’s door. When he opened the door, he was shirtless. He had short, messy hair and looked like he had just woken up. The tattoo on his right arm snaked all the way up his shoulder and onto his chest. It looked like a dragon. He looked incredibly intimidating. “Hey, man,” I suppressed the anxiety in my chest. “Are you… in a gang?” 4 After hearing my question, my heavily tattooed neighbor’s face froze for a second. Finally, he just looked at me blankly and asked, “What do you want?” His chiseled face had strong, sharp features. He was genuinely handsome. But the aura he gave off made it very easy to ignore his looks. I had been observing this neighbor. Most days, he left the apartment around 8 or 9 PM and didn’t come back until early the next morning. Occasionally, if he came back a little later, it coincided with me waking up early to study, and I’d hear his door open. The doors in this old apartment complex used heavy, outdated locks, so they were loud when they opened. I guessed this neighbor worked some kind of physical labor job because he was tall, incredibly muscular, and had an intense, aggressive vibe about him. Facing someone like him, I was internally terrified, but I kept my voice as steady as possible. “Hey man, I… I’m your neighbor. I live right next door. I was hoping I could ask you for a favor.” “Not interested.” He started to close the door. I quickly reached out to stop him. “Wait, wait! I’m not asking for a freebie. I’ll pay you! You don’t even really have to do anything. Just help me scare off a few people.” The tattooed guy stopped closing the door. He seemed to study me for a second. “You want to hire me as a bodyguard?” “…” That was basically the gist of it. Before I could answer, he said coldly, “If you’re getting bullied, call your parents. What kind of logic is asking a stranger for help?” “I don’t have parents anymore.” “What?” The tattooed guy’s tone seemed to falter, and his gaze landed on my face. “My parents died in an accident. Those relatives of mine are eyeing the stuff they left me, and they keep harassing me.” I looked up, trying to gauge his reaction. “Man, it’s the same people who disrupted your sleep the other day. You definitely don’t want to see them again either, right?” “Those people were here trying to shake you down?” The tattooed guy frowned slightly. “Yeah. One by one, they all owe my parents money and have never paid it back. Now they want to steal the settlement money my parents left me.” I nodded. “Hey man, what’s your daily rate usually? I’ll hire you for your daily rate to help me out, okay?” I just needed him to show his face when those relatives showed up and scare them off. The tattooed guy finally let out a scoff. “Do you even know what my daily rate is before you ask that?” I honestly didn’t, but I couldn’t think of a better plan right now. “Man, just give me a number?” I asked tentatively. Instead of answering, he asked, “When do those relatives of yours usually show up?” “I don’t know, but probably around evening.” It was the weekend; they knew I’d be home. My uncle and the others had been sending me long, rambling messages on WhatsApp, trying to guilt-trip me. Some of the messages were just nasty insults. Most of them were voice memos, and I was too lazy to even listen to them. “Alright. Go back inside.” I heard this incredibly intimidating neighbor reply. I walked back to my apartment feeling thoroughly confused, still unsure if he had actually agreed to take the job or not. Around 5 PM, there was a knock at my door. I was instantly on high alert. But aside from the knocking, there weren’t any obnoxious voices outside, and the rhythm of the knocking was different from theirs. I stood behind the door and heard unfamiliar voices talking. So I asked, “Who is it?” “Me.” It was my neighbor’s voice. I opened the door, and when I saw the scene outside, I froze. 5 There were several guys standing outside. Aside from my tattooed neighbor, there were three others. They were all very tall and heavily built. The biggest one had a buzz cut and muscles that looked like they belonged on a heavyweight boxer. He had a very aggressive face. Another one had dyed blond hair, was covered in accessories, and had tattoo sleeves on both arms. There was also a guy with curly hair wearing a tank top. He was thinner than the rest but looked equally intimidating. Most importantly, they were all carrying grocery bags. “Man?” I looked confused at the leader, my neighbor. He led the guys inside, and as he walked past me, he said, “I don’t have any cookware over there yet. We’re borrowing your place for hot pot.” With that, he navigated his way to my kitchen and led the group over. “Oh, right,” he looked back at me. “Leave the front door open.” The guys didn’t pay any attention to me. They just went straight into the kitchen and started prepping. They had brought a ton of meat and vegetables. Because it was too cramped, the biggest guy got kicked out of the kitchen. “Kid, why are you staring at me?” He caught me peeking and asked in a booming voice. I instinctively replied, “Man, your muscles look really impressive. I was just admiring them.” That comment seemed to please him. He let out a booming laugh. “You’ve got a good eye.” “Man, what’s your name?” I asked. Through a brief conversation, I learned that the big guy currently making himself entirely at home on my sofa was named Marcus. The blond guy in the kitchen was Jayden, and the curly-haired guy was Eli. As for my neighbor, his name was Jax. The smell of hot pot drifted out of the kitchen. I watched them carry out the pot, plates of meat and vegetables, and two large bowls of dipping sauce. In the short time they had been here, they looked more like the homeowners than I did. “Kid, why are you just standing there? Come eat! Don’t be shy in your own house,” Marcus called out. “…” The broth was incredibly spicy. I was inhaling sharply as I ate. It was hot, but it smelled amazing. The tattooed guy sitting next to me cracked open a can of Coke with one hand, popped a straw in it, and handed it to me. “Can’t handle spice?” “Jax, I’m fine.” I had heard the others calling him that. “I love it, I’m just not very good at handling heat.” Jax didn’t care how I knew his name. He got up, poured me a glass of ice water, and set it in front of me. “If you can’t handle the spice, just rinse the food off before you eat it.” His action, however, stunned the other three guys. The blond guy complained, “Jax, last time I had a breakout and didn’t want to eat spicy food, you told me to go eat at a separate table…” The curly-haired guy chimed in with the same tone: “Jax, remember when you said picky eaters can get out…” Marcus just laughed loudly. Jax scoffed. “What, you want to kick the homeowner out while you’re eating at his house? Are you guys trying to stage a mutiny?” The others teased him a bit more. When they opened their mouths, they were actually pretty easy to get along with. It was just their physical appearance that was easily misunderstood. Halfway through the hot pot, sure enough, there was noise coming from outside. 6 I heard several voices. “Noah Miller, you actually have the mood to sit at home and eat hot pot?!” My uncle’s voice came from outside. He had clearly smelled the food and saw that my front door was wide open. Then came my aunt: “The elders are suffering so much because of him! He has no conscience!” “…” The group walked in, looking unified, like they had coordinated their approach beforehand. They all wanted to extract money from me. However, when they gathered at the doorway and looked inside, the four adult men sitting next to me all looked up and stood up simultaneously. They were all very tall, and unlike my uncle’s flabby weight, this was pure, gym-built muscle. The intimidating aura of these guys standing together was off the charts. “Noah Miller, who are these people you’re hanging out with?!” “If your parents knew you were acting like this, they’d be rolling in their graves!” “You’re young and naive. You won’t be able to hold onto the money your parents left you for long. You’ll probably blow it all on these shady friends of yours!” “…” They felt they held the moral high ground as they walked in. Jax and his friends took two steps forward. Just those two steps made my relatives retreat a few paces in fear. “Noah Miller, what is the meaning of this? Did you hire these thugs to intimidate your elders?” my aunt spoke up first. She had a sharp tongue, but even she was intimidated by these tall, intimidating strangers. Jax looked at them and spoke first: “Since you people are the ‘elders,’ the kid’s parents recently passed away, and he’s all alone. We’re not even asking you to provide any help, but shouldn’t you at least pay back the money his parents lent you?” My relatives had never, ever considered the concept of “paying back” the money. Hearing this, their expressions varied wildly. “What money? When did they ever lend me money?” My mom’s brother was the first to deny it, swearing up and down that it never happened. Then came my dad’s brother’s wife: “Noah’s dad transferred money to us a few years ago, but wasn’t that the allowance money for his grandparents before they passed away? We never borrowed money!” My other aunt had a similar excuse ready. I felt numb. Even though I already knew exactly what kind of people they were, I still felt that my parents’ sacrifices were completely unworthy of them. “I still have my parents’ phones. The text message logs say otherwise,” I spoke up suddenly. “And Uncle David, did you forget? You borrowed five thousand dollars from my parents the year before last, and you even signed an IOU. Do you want me to bring out the chat logs and the IOU to confront you?” Their eyes widened. They had been showing up constantly lately just to extract money. How could they possibly agree to lose money now? Actually, no matter how sweet they sounded when they borrowed the money, they never had any intention of paying it back. The front door suddenly slammed shut. They looked back and realized that the curly-haired guy had circled behind them and locked the door without them noticing. Jax: “If the debts aren’t settled today, no one is leaving.” My relatives instantly panicked and turned to try and open the door to leave. Naturally, that wasn’t happening. “What do you think you’re doing?! Believe it or not, I’ll call the police!” Marcus laughed. “Call ’em. Let the cops come and see who’s really being shameless. Paying back debts is a basic rule of society. He has proof you owe him money. Suing you in small claims court wouldn’t be hard at all.” Seeing that they couldn’t reason their way out of this, my uncle turned his gaze back to me. “Noah Miller, is this how you treat your own flesh and blood? Letting them bully us?” He tried to sound self-righteous. “Are you even a Miller anymore?!” 7 “Not anymore, Uncle. You never treated me like a human being anyway,” I said flatly. Marcus burst out laughing at that. “You’re a pretty funny kid.” These guys blocking the door was still very intimidating. My relatives, who usually relied on their status as “elders” to be arrogant, were terrified. They eventually coughed up a few hundred dollars each. They muttered about paying the rest in installments. As Jax watched them transfer the money to me, he added one sentence: “Put ‘Debt Repayment’ in the memo line.” Only then did he open the door and let them go. I looked at the extra couple of thousand dollars in my phone, feeling relieved. I knew full well that “paying in installments” was just a lie to get out the door. But they had come here not only failing to extort me, but actually losing money themselves. It felt incredible. “Guys, you were amazing!” Marcus waved his hand. “Ah, people like them just bully you because you’re young and have a thin skin. The second they run into real trouble, they panic. You and Jax are neighbors; I doubt they’ll dare show their faces around here again.” Eli clicked his tongue. “A bunch of fully grown adults with working arms and legs, targeting a kid’s house and wallet. Shameless!” “We see this kind of thing all the time,” Jayden said, sitting down and continuing to eat. “Scumbags who only pick on the weak.” They went back to happily eating. After they finished, they wiped their mouths, said goodbye to Jax, and left, saying they had to get to work. I looked at my tattooed neighbor and asked, “Jax, how much do I owe you guys for the day rate?” He hadn’t told me their daily rate yet. Jax glanced at me, then glanced at the table. “You clean up. Keep your money. Don’t go around telling people how much cash you have.” He didn’t want my money, and his friends seemed to have just come over for hot pot before strolling away. They left a huge bag of unfinished drinks and snacks at my place. It wasn’t until Jax was about to leave that I finally snapped out of it and stopped him to exchange contact info. I originally didn’t know what he did for a living. Seeing him leave late and come back early, it wasn’t until I saw a post online one day that I realized he was a bartender at a nearby club. So he wasn’t in a gang after all. I thought back to my initial impression of him and felt a little guilty. Jax had truly done me a massive favor. After that day, terrified of being hounded for the debt, my uncle and the others made a silent pact to stop harassing me. Another weekend rolled around. I texted him in advance, wanting to treat him and the other three guys to dinner. I checked his club’s operating hours; there was plenty of time for dinner beforehand. At first, Jax just replied with one word: [Unnecessary]. I insisted, and he finally compromised, telling me to send him the restaurant address and time, and he would notify the other three. Around the agreed-upon time, I knocked on the door next door. A man wearing a burgundy dress shirt stepped out. The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and the top buttons were undone, leaving his collar open. The tattoos on his right arm and chest were faintly visible. He was also wearing a silver cross necklace. Jax smelled like expensive cologne. “Let’s go,” he said to me. 8 I picked a place not too far from the club where he worked. I chose it intentionally. I booked early, so we even got a private room. The other three guys arrived early. “Noah’s here? Come sit. We’re riding your coattails today.” I walked over and smiled at them. “No way, Marcus. I’m the one who owes you guys. Things have been so much quieter lately. Please, don’t be polite.” As their eyes landed on Jax, Eli suddenly let out a low whistle. “Jax, dressing up this flashy just to grab dinner with our boy?” Jax lightly kicked his shin, not using much force. “Shut up. This is my work uniform.” The other three instantly burst into laughter. Work uniform? Seeing my confusion, Eli threw his arm around my shoulder and explained: “Noah, Jax opened a club with some partners. Jayden and I are in the house band, Marcus handles security. Right now, they’re short-staffed, and good, high-quality bartenders are hard to find. So he stepped in himself. Now, men and women alike just stare at his face and come in to spend money on eye candy.” Jayden smirked. “Jax is basically the face of the club now. Anyone else can call out sick, but he can’t. Every night, rich guys and girls come in asking if he needs money or a sugar daddy/mommy.” Jax shoved a piece of watermelon into his mouth. “Stop corrupting the kid!” “17 isn’t a kid! I’d had two serious relationships by the time I was 17!” Jax: “That’s why you didn’t get into college.” “…Bro, really? Hitting me with the academic insult?” Jayden protested. “You went to college, and now you’re working the same job as me?” “Food isn’t enough to shut your mouth!” “…” I had ordered the food in advance, and it didn’t take long for the waiter to start bringing out the dishes. Halfway through the meal, Jax stepped out to use the restroom. When he didn’t come back right away, I stepped out too. I passed by the front desk and saw him trying to pay the bill, only to be told it had already been settled. He turned around, and our eyes met. I grinned widely at him. “Jax, I said I was treating. I paid ages ago.” Jax: “…” “Who lets a minor pay the bill when a bunch of adults go out?” he muttered. A moment later, he couldn’t help but add, “You’re so young, where did you learn to play the networking game like this?” “My mom taught me. If you’re going to treat someone to a meal, you have to show genuine sincerity.” Jax reached out and patted my head. “What does a high school kid need with all this social maneuvering? Focus on studying, that’s the right path.” After we finished eating, the other three guys asked if I wanted to come hang out at their club. Jayden said, “Noah, our club is actually really fun. There are lots of hot guys and girls. You’re so good-looking, you’d definitely be popular…” Before he could finish, Jax cut him off: “Noah, I’ll walk you home.” He also shot Jayden a glare. “Jayden, stop being a bad influence.” “Jax, why are you so tense? If people didn’t know better, they’d think we run a sketchy underground club!” Jax: “…” After this dinner, I definitely felt closer to my new neighbor, but we still didn’t have much overlap in our daily lives. I was a student; he was a club owner and bartender. We were fundamentally on two different paths. I finally gradually got used to living alone—going to school every day and coming home to an empty house. Until summer break arrived. 9 I spent more time at home, mostly just grinding through practice tests. The neighbor’s club was doing great business. He usually didn’t get home until nearly 6 AM. One night, I had insomnia and couldn’t sleep until 4 AM. While getting up to use the bathroom, I suddenly heard a loud THUD outside my front door. Usually, at this hour, any noise out there would only be made by Jax. I hesitated for a few seconds before carefully opening the door and peeking out. The motion-sensor lights in the hallway hadn’t turned off yet. Jax was collapsed entirely on the floor. I froze, then quickly stepped out and crouched down beside him. “Jax?” I called out softly, shaking him gently. Jax reeked of alcohol. He was clearly incredibly drunk. “Jax, wake up.” I patted his pockets but couldn’t find his keys. He didn’t react at all. He didn’t even open his eyes. The only thing I could confirm was that he wasn’t dead. I glanced down the hallway. I couldn’t just leave him passed out in the corridor. I gritted my teeth, used all my strength to pull him up, and half-carried, half-dragged him into my apartment. He was tall and solidly built. He was heavy. It took an insane amount of effort to maneuver him into my room. After taking off his shoes, I turned around, locked the door, turned off the lights, and went into the master bedroom to sleep. The consequence of insomnia was waking up late the next day. The sun was already high in the sky when I finally became lucid. The first thing I did was get out of bed and walk out to the living room. Jax was sitting on my sofa. I had no idea how long he had been sitting there. “Jax, you’re up early?” Jax turned to look at me. He was still wearing last night’s clothes. He rubbed his temples. “How did I get in here last night?” He had completely blacked out. Makes sense, considering how drunk he was. I gave him a brief rundown, including the fact that I couldn’t find his keys in his pockets. Jax patted his pockets again and finally concluded: “I probably left them at the club.” I found some spare, unused toiletries in my house for him. “Jax, I’m going to order some food on DoorDash. What do you want?” The sound of the running faucet in the bathroom stopped, and a voice called out: “Whatever you’re having, I’ll have.” When Jax came out and saw the takeout containers on the dining table, and then glanced at the stash of instant ramen in the corner, he asked, “Do you just survive on DoorDash and ramen when you’re on break?” “Is there a problem?” I looked at him, confused. During the school year, I could eat at the cafeteria. At home, takeout was just more convenient. I could cook a little, but my culinary skills weren’t exactly stellar. Jax didn’t say anything else. After eating, he grabbed his phone, sent a message to someone, and then left, taking the trash with him. I thought it was just a perfectly ordinary day until the next evening when Jax sent me a text: [Come over for dinner]. ? It was my first time inside Jax’s apartment. There were several dishes set out on the dining table. The aroma was incredible. Jax, wearing a black tank top, carried a bowl of soup out of the kitchen. “Sit down.” “Jax, you know how to cook?” I was still a little shocked. Jax gave a non-committal “Mhm,” and placed a ladle of soup in front of me. “Eat up. I can’t finish all this by myself.” None of the dishes on the table were bad. I ate while giving Jax a thumbs-up. “Jax, you’re amazing!” Jax didn’t even try to be modest. He pulled a corner of his mouth into a smirk. “Obviously.” I hadn’t experienced the feeling of eating a home-cooked meal like this in a very long time. Even though it was at a neighbor’s house, it still made me feel incredibly moved. I buried my head and ate voraciously. Jax didn’t seem to notice the emotional shift in my mood. From that day on, my heavily tattooed neighbor would occasionally show off his culinary skills and invite me over to eat.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “402454”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

We were poor. Dirt poor. To buy him that birthday gift, I saved every cent I had for a whole year. The day my mom’s tragedy struck, I left school early. That was when I heard him laughing with his friends. “This piece of junk? A third-place prize at a local diner looks better than this,” he said, shaking his head. His friend laughed loudly. “Since you hate it, Ty, give it to me. I’ll sell it and buy some decent gear.” “Go ahead. Take it.” Tyler Cole threw it to him like it was garbage. And that’s when his eyes met mine. Years later, at a high school reunion, I heard Tyler had been looking for me for eight years. 01 When my eyes met Tyler’s, his expression froze. The guy holding the watch scratched his head, looking pure agony. “Do… do you want this back?” I stared at the watch in his hand. It was already scuffed up, clearly not taken care of, even in the short time he’d had it. It wasn’t a luxury watch—it cost a little under a thousand bucks—but for me, that was a year’s worth of cutting back on lunch, saving dollar by dollar. I looked at Tyler’s wrist. He was wearing a watch today. I didn’t recognize the brand, but I knew one thing for sure: the one he was wearing cost a hell of a lot more than the one I had given him. I silently took the watch back from Tyler’s friend. Then, I looked at Tyler and spoke slowly. “I’m sorry. I’ll take care of it.” Tyler kept his eyes low, pressing his lips together in silence. He didn’t say a word. Humiliated, I rubbed the watch in my hand, turned on my heel, and walked away. As I passed the first trash can outside the school gates, I didn’t hesitate. I threw the watch right in. I looked back at him one last time. He had lazily opened his eyes, a smile playing on his lips, his gaze filled with pure mockery. I froze, lowering my head. It was so humiliating, this crush of mine. Back then, I didn’t know that single look from Tyler Cole would become my nightmare for years to come. 02 When I got home, my dad was sitting on the porch, a cheap cigarette hanging from his mouth, his face a mask of despair. Mom wasn’t there. He handed me a report. It was the diagnosis. Breast cancer. Dad took a long drag of his cigarette. “The treatment is going to cost hundreds of thousands. I talked it over with your mom… we aren’t going to do it.” “Your mom said she wanted that pulled pork I make. Go buy the meat. I’m going to the hospital to bring her home in a bit.” I didn’t believe it. I flipped through that report over and over, my voice shaking. “Is it a confirmed diagnosis? These things are misdiagnosed all the time. Tomorrow, I’m taking Mom to another hospital. This has to be a mistake…” I looked at my dad stubbornly. Dad’s eyes were bloodshot. He just looked at me, saying nothing. In that second, the tears fell. I couldn’t stop them. Finally, I choked out, “I’m quitting school. Let’s use the money for Mom’s treatment.” Dad just kept his head down. I knew my dad’s heartbreak wasn’t less than mine. Dad had a prosthetic leg. Back in the day, my mom was the only one willing to be with him, never judging him, always encouraging him. Even though we were poor, my parents loved each other fiercely. In middle school, when everyone was starting to talk about their faith and beliefs, I asked him, “Dad, what’s your faith?” Dad didn’t really get what “faith” meant, so I gave him a rough explanation. He scratched his head, embarrassed. “I guess your mom is my faith.” And later… I had a faith of my own, too. I wanted to grow up, make money, and take my parents to see the world. Now, my dad’s faith was collapsing. And mine was, too. I grabbed my dad’s hand, speaking to myself as much as him. “I’m not going back to school. I’ll get a job. We’ll go to New York City. We’ll get Mom the best doctors.” Dad smoked, saying nothing. But my mind was made up. I told Dad to go get Mom, and I started packing things up for New York. Then, I went back to school. 03 It started raining halfway there. People on the street were hurrying, trying to get indoors before it poured. Only then did I dare to cry, my rain and tears blending together. The school was almost empty by the time I got there. I reached my hand into that filthy trash can. The stench was overwhelming, but I dug through it over and over. But the watch I had thrown away wasn’t there. I bit my lip, wanting to slap the self that had thrown it away. Even selling it for parts would have given us a few hundred bucks! I searched for hours. I went through every piece of trash in that can. No watch. Devastated, I started walking home. The streets were deserted now. The rain was coming down so hard it actually hurt. When I got home, Dad wasn’t back yet. The house that usually felt warm now felt freezing cold. I waited, and waited… Finally, just one person came running to tell me the news. “Your dad and mom… they jumped into the river together.” That was the year I was a senior. I lost both my parents and became an orphan. 04 Eight years have passed, and I still can’t forget that day. I sat up in bed, checked my phone. It was only 4 AM. Staring at the empty room, I whispered, “Dad, Mom…” Just like always, there was no response. 八年… They haven’t come to visit me in my dreams even once. My dreams are only filled with Tyler Cole, that smirk on his lips, that mocking look in his eyes, laughing as he asks me: “Have you no shame, Maya?” Every time I scream back that I do, I wake up. I couldn’t get back to sleep, so I got up and started packing. After numbing myself through their funerals back then, I left that town. I went to a new city, working and studying at the same time. Working to pay for tuition and life was brutal. But I didn’t dare let myself stop. If I stopped, I’d cry. I went to a hospital, and the doctor said I had severe depression. He said I needed someone to help me pull myself out of that day. But there was no one like that… After being gone for eight years, the urge to go back has grown stronger lately. I want to see that river where they jumped. I want to jump in and ask them why they were so heartless. I’m just so tired… Since I was going back anyway, I decided I wasn’t against seeing my old classmates. So when the class president asked if I was coming to the reunion, I was the first to say yes. I haven’t spoken in that group chat in eight years. I’d deleted all their contacts, too. Including Tyler’s. 05 I bought a ticket for the earliest high-speed train. I felt lighter than I had in years. In eight years, not a single day had felt this peaceful. I looked at the scenery outside the window, smiling as I chatted with the young couple in the seats next to me. The girl said, “You have no idea how hard I had to chase him. So many girls wanted him, but I stuck it out for two years. Now, I’m taking him home to meet my parents!” “Are you so happy because you’re going home to see your parents, too, sweetie? I feel like the air itself gets sweeter on the way to see them.” I was silent for a moment, then forced a smile. “Yeah, I’m going home, too.” “Home… to see my parents.” I whispered the last part so softly only I could hear. But those words made me happy. I was going to… see my parents soon. I hummed a song the whole way there. After getting off the train, I went straight to the place the class president had booked. 06 Most people were already there by the time I arrived. As soon as I walked in, the room went dead silent. I casually took a seat in the chair closest to the door. I let the smile slide off my face. The class president adjusted his glasses to break the silence. “Maya, you made it?” I nodded. Brittany, a girl who always hated me in school, let out a sarcastic snort. “Wow, if it isn’t the valedictorian herself, Maya Evans. Hardest person to get a hold of. Seeing your face makes me lose my appetite. Someone should give Tyler a heads-up so he doesn’t show up today…” No one knew the real reason I dropped out back then. But they all knew I liked Tyler, and that I’d given him a gift. The girl sitting next to Brittany nudged her to stop. The class president frowned. “Brittany, shut up. Tyler’s been looking for Maya for eight years. He’ll just be happy she’s here.” Brittany laughed out loud. “Tyler’s a nice guy, okay? Everyone knows you have to apologize even if you just reject someone… “He’s been looking for her for eight years just so he can apologize. “Is it a crime not to like someone? Everyone knows Maya transferred school because Tyler humiliated her. You make it sound like Tyler actually liked her. “Doesn’t Tyler have a girl he likes now? I heard she’s rich and beautiful. What’s Maya got going for her, besides being pretty? A crippled dad? A house that’s literally falling apart? “Give me a break…” Brittany was getting cruel, and the others were starting to look uncomfortable. I stood up, my expression completely calm. Not angry. “I’m not staying to eat, so you don’t have to worry about your appetite, Brittany. I just came to see everyone. Now that I have, I’m going.” With that, I pulled open the door and walked out. The class president ran out after me. He grabbed my hand, looking intense. “Tyler really has been looking for you for eight years. You aren’t going to wait for him?” Tyler’s face flashed in my mind. So handsome. Such beautiful eyes. But when he looked at me, there was never any emotion in them. Just that smirk on his lips. I shook my head, smiling. “I’m on a tight schedule. When you see him, tell him I’m sorry. Truly… I am so sorry.” The class president froze where he stood. 07 After I left, I bought a lot of ritual spirit money. I burned so much of it at my parents’ graves. Enough to last them a hundred lifetimes. After burning the money, I went back to look at our old house. Everything inside was covered in dust. I didn’t clean it. I didn’t touch anything. I stood by the door for a long time until it was pitch black outside. There are no streetlights in the countryside. I checked my phone; it was almost 11 PM. I called a cab to take me to the锦江 bridge. The river was very peaceful at night. Occasionally, a motorcycle would pass by—delivery guys. I held onto my suitcase and stopped at the edge of the bridge. No one paid me any attention because I had a suitcase. They probably just thought I was tired of walking and was resting. I waited until midnight, until there was not a single person left around. I taped a note to my suitcase, climbed over the railing, and without a second thought, I jumped. In the second I fell, I might have hallucinated, because I thought I heard Tyler’s voice. “Fuck, don’t you dare jump, Maya!” 08 As I lost consciousness, I seemed to see Tyler again, wearing our high school uniform, leaning against the hallway railing under the dim lights. His jacket was loose around his frame, a lollipop hanging from his mouth. He raised an eyebrow, eyes filled with laughter. “Well, if it isn’t the class valedictorian?” I’d heard about Tyler Cole since my freshman year. The girls in class talked about him every single day. He was just that good-looking. His skin was fair, his features sharp and defined. There was something magnetic about him when he smiled—dangerous and alluring. When the classes were reshuffled sophomore year, I ended up in the same class as Tyler. He sat right behind me. After class, a crowd always gathered around him, chattering. I’d never had so many people around me before. I wasn’t used to it, so I’d always grab my water bottle and pretend to go refill it. Truth was, I was just hiding by the back door. And that’s how I heard them talking about me. “What was the advisor thinking? He knows Ty likes hot girls, but the only girl near him is the nerd valedictorian.” “The advisor is brutal. Everyone knows Ty dated a ton of cute girls freshman year. Now, he’s cutting him off. Maya doesn’t even count as a girl.” “Honestly, Ty, I have never seen anyone as plain as Maya. Who still wears those tiny, thin-rimmed glasses? Her bangs are so long they cover her face, and her uniform is always done up perfectly. She looks like a total grandma.” “Ty, you wouldn’t actually be interested in her, would you?” That question was followed by a burst of laughter. “Fuck off.” That was Tyler’s voice. It had that roughness of puberty, but it was nice. Then, he let out a short laugh. “Me? Tyler Cole? Do you really think my standards are that low?” I froze. I looked down at my scuffed sneakers and uniform pants, and suddenly felt a profound sense of humiliation. I kept my head down until they finished talking before silently going back to my seat. 09 My seat never felt like mine after class. There was always a constant stream of girls coming to see Tyler. And Tyler never turned anyone away. Later, the school added a mandatory swimming class. We had to order swimsuits—they were $180 a set. Before class ended, the teacher told me: “The valedictorian will handle collecting the money.” Brittany let out a quiet laugh and raised her hand. “Teacher, everyone knows Maya’s family is poor. Is it really a good idea to trust her with all that money?” My hands clenched under my desk. Brittany had hated me since freshman year. I didn’t expect to be in the same class with her again sophomore year. I usually lived by the rule of not making trouble, so I was about to tell the teacher to have someone else do it. Just then, a hand with long, elegant fingers appeared in front of my face. “Here, valedictorian.” I looked up. Tyler was looking down at me. His eyes were stunning. I was dazed for a moment. Maybe I stared too long, because the guy next to Tyler nudged him, smirking. “Well, looks like another one’s hooked.” That snapped me out of it. Tyler suddenly leaned in close. My pupils dilated. He smiled, a charming, dangerous look. He whispered right in my ear: “I know I’m hot, but valedictorian… “You are not my type.” I lowered my eyes, took the money from his hand, turned back to my desk, and nodded. “I know.” Tyler seemed stunned for a second. He raised an eyebrow. “Good. Stick to your books, nerd.” With that, Tyler stood up, grabbed his basketball, and walked out of the classroom. 10 The others didn’t hear what Tyler said to me. They just knew Tyler had stepped in for me. So they all handed me their money. Brittany gave me hers reluctantly, giving me a warning look. “Stay away from Tyler. Take a look at your own family before you go dreaming. You’re completely out of your league.” I ignored her, quietly collected all the money, and then used my own lunch money to pay for my swimsuit set. After counting the money and making sure it was all there, I immediately handed it in to the teacher. By the time I was done, it was lunchtime, and most people were already eating. I took a bun out of my bag and started eating it in the empty classroom. My head was spinning, trying to figure out where to find a part-time job to make up for my lunch money. If I asked my parents, they would give it to me, but I didn’t want to. While I was halfway through eating, Tyler walked in. He looked surprised to see me. I just glanced at him once before lowering my eyes and continuing to eat my bun. Tyler walked straight to his seat. Suddenly, he poked me. His voice was rough. “Done eating, nerd?” I shoved the last two bites of the bun into my mouth, turned around, and nodded silently. He leaned sideways, lifting his uniform shirt. His waist had a massive scrape that was still seeping blood. He tilted his head, smiling at me. “Help me put some medicine on this, will you?” I chewed the bun quickly and nodded. “Okay.” I walked over to his side and crouched down. I looked at the medicine bottle he took out of his pocket and frowned. “Why didn’t you buy iodine? Alcohol is going to hurt like hell.” Tyler let out a soft laugh. “Real men aren’t afraid of pain.” As soon as he said that, I soaked a cotton ball in alcohol and dabbed it onto his wound. “Hiss—” I looked up at Tyler. “Real man?” Tyler looked down at me, stunned for a second. Then he laughed. “Valedictorian, your eyelashes are really long.” It was an absolutely careless, casual comment. I knew that. I lowered my eyes, but my hand got a little heavier with the cotton ball. Tyler didn’t make a sound, but his abs were rock hard, showing just how much pain he was in. He finally couldn’t take it anymore. He said through gritted teeth: “Fuck, that hurts… be gentle.” I paused, and without thinking, I gently blew air onto the wound. After I did it, I froze. Tyler froze, too. Then, neither of us said another word. 11 After I put the medicine on Tyler, we went back to being like strangers. After class, I’d even see him walking different girls back to their dorms. There was a massive tree right in front of our dorm building. Tyler and one girl were standing under that tree. The girl was gorgeous—a senior. She stood on her tiptoes, pouting at Tyler. Just as Tyler leaned down, he suddenly glanced over in my direction. I immediately turned my head away. Tyler shifted his gaze. He just leaned down, pinched the girl’s cheek, smiled, and walked away. For some reason, I always found myself paying a little more attention to Tyler. Lying on my dorm bed, I thought about it and finally came to a conclusion. I just liked his face. It was nice just looking at him. Later, whenever I ran into Tyler with other girls, I’d immediately walk somewhere I couldn’t see him. Or I’d walk far behind them, keeping my head down. I figured that way I wouldn’t offend him. The next time Tyler got hurt, he came to find me holding the medicine bottle. It was his arm this time. He leaned one arm on my desk, raised his injured arm, blinked at me, and said, “Valedictorian…” I’d just picked up the medicine when I saw that senior girl walking toward us. I shot up from my seat so fast my head slammed into Tyler’s chin. “Hiss—Nerd, you don’t have to headbutt me just because you’re happy to see me. What if I get a concussion…” He reached out his hand toward my head. I backed up, dodging his hand. Seeing the senior girl getting closer, I hurriedly bowed to Tyler and ran off. Tyler was left standing there, his expression hard to read.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “402453”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

Cole Sterling was known throughout the city as a notorious playboy. He treated every single one of his girlfriends exceptionally well. Whatever they wanted, he gave them. Except marriage. Everyone knew that he had never gotten over his first love. That was why he could never take that final step with any other girl. By the fifth month of our relationship, my parents were pressuring me heavily to settle down. I had no choice but to say goodbye. “I heard your first love is moving back. Congratulations.” He just smiled. “Yeah.” That very night, his friends threw him a “Welcome Back to the Bachelor Life” party. It was a massive, loud affair. Someone inevitably brought me up: “Hey Cole, I think I just saw Maya. She was with some guy, pretty good-looking too.” As soon as the words left his mouth, the entire room started gossiping, the noise level rising. But Cole suddenly snapped. He crushed his cigarette into the ashtray and sneered: “She was the one who said she wanted to be together, and she’s the one who asked for the breakup. “Does she really think she gets to have it both ways?” 01 When Cole and I first got together, his friends actually placed bets on us. The stakes were high. They were betting on whether our relationship would last longer than a month. His family was incredibly wealthy and his reputation preceded him. When I first met him, my roommate warned me: “The Sterlings aren’t just rich, they’re old money. They aren’t people you want to mess with.” “But Cole is a bit different. I hear he’s actually really easy to date. He never loses his temper with girls, and he always ends things amicably with every ex.” She wasn’t exaggerating. But between us, it wasn’t really a matter of who chased who. I was in my second year of grad school, working on a research project for my advisor. I desperately needed a specific, out-of-print English textbook, and it was impossible to find. I posted on countless academic forums, but it was like shouting into the void. Just as I was about to give up, someone finally replied. The tone was a mix of playful arrogance and genuine helpfulness— [My grandfather actually has a copy of that in his library. Contact me if you still need it. Consider it my good deed for the day.] I messaged him immediately. Afterward, to thank him, we hung out a couple of times. We got along surprisingly well. The last time we saw each other, he stood under a streetlamp, looking impossibly handsome. He raised an eyebrow, as if a thought had just occurred to him, and asked: “Are we going to see each other again?” Again. Would there be an again? Seasons change, years pass, would we actually cross paths again? The moonlight was cold, the evening was perfect. Saying “no” felt like it would ruin the moment. Guided by some inexplicable impulse, I smiled, refusing to be outdone, and asked: “I heard you’re really easy to date. Is that true?” He looked at me, a smile breaking across his face: “Why don’t you try and find out?” When you’re young and haven’t experienced much of the world, meeting someone like him—confident, effortless, and undeniably powerful—makes you instinctively want to get closer. Besides, I had actually seen him long before that. It was right after I first moved to this city. I got my purse snatched at the bus station. I had absolutely nothing on me. After filing the police report, I walked out into a pouring rainstorm. I was miserable, broke, and crying hysterically. He drove past in his car, slowed down, and casually called out: “Where are you headed? I can give you a ride.” Naturally, I was too scared to get into a stranger’s car. He was patient, though. He didn’t push, just gently tried to reassure me: “I’m not a bad guy. Trust me this once. Stop crying, okay?” I had always wanted to thank him for that day, but I never saw him again. In a city with millions of people, crossing paths even once, let alone actually speaking, is incredibly rare. Not long after that night under the streetlamp, we started dating. When my roommate found out, she was shocked for a few days before finally saying: “Dating a guy like him… it must feel pretty amazing, right? But I heard none of his relationships last longer than two weeks. “Just enjoy it while it lasts. Live in the moment.” I said, Yeah, live in the moment. People are always naive at some point. Back then, I thought dating was simple: you just followed your heart. When I loved him, I didn’t care about his past; I only wanted a future with him. But later, I realized that wasn’t how it worked. Take that bet, for example. Everyone knew Cole’s girlfriends never lasted more than two weeks. Why did those rich trust-fund kids bet on one month for me? It was a long time before I found out. I learned that the extra two weeks were because my face… slightly resembled his first love. 02 Most of the people who bet against us lost a lot of money. Because, to everyone’s absolute shock, Cole and my relationship was fantastic. It was very different from his past flings. He was surprisingly proactive. He sought me out every single day, whether for lunch or dinner. There was a period where I was swamped with midterms, and he would just wait for me at the campus gates. Sometimes he’d wait for over an hour. I felt terrible and told him I’d take him out for a nice dinner to make up for it. He just tugged on my sleeve, suppressing a smile: “Your boyfriend wants to eat at the dining hall.” He paused, then asked for my permission: “Is that okay?” Honestly, I knew what he was doing. He didn’t want me to have to commute back and forth just to eat. I had heard rumors about him from his college days—he was incredibly snobby and absolutely refused to eat dining hall food. The young master of the Sterling family had the capital to look down on everything. We never broke up, and our relationship was so good it genuinely shocked people. By our third month together, he rented an apartment right near my campus. We spent more and more time together. He even set up a home theater in the apartment. Whenever we had free time, we’d curl up on the couch and watch movies. He didn’t actually care for the movies I picked, but I loved them. He would patiently watch them with me from beginning to end. If we watched one I particularly loved, he would even take notes and write serious reviews for me to read. His grandfather was a renowned artist, and Cole had studied under him for a few years, so he was quite talented. During those days, he would occasionally sketch me. There was one sketch, in particular, that left a deep impression on me—a girl standing under an oak tree, clutching a stack of books to her chest, her features delicate, her smile bright and pure. But I always wanted to ask him: when we first met, I was so introverted and shy. When had I ever smiled that brightly? Then came a late night. It was our first time. I was struggling with my thesis research, and when he found out, he patiently guided me through the confusing parts. He tapped my waist lightly, his posture relaxed: “Make sense now?” I had a sudden “aha” moment and excitedly threw my arms around him in a tight hug. He looked at me, his eyes slowly darkening. Finally, he leaned forward, pressing me down. His lips moved slightly, feeling cold against mine. He was a little nervous, but maintaining his usual casual facade, gripping my hand tightly: “Maya.” “Mhm.” Halfway through, his voice low and raspy, he brought up that sketch. He said: “The first time we met, you were standing right there. I wanted to take a picture of you so badly.” I laughed, kissing his neck, implying: “Did you say this to all your other girlfriends, too?” Whispering sweet nothings in the middle of passion, reminiscing about the moment we met. He clicked his tongue, pressing against me with a rogueish grin: “Go out and ask around. Which one of them ever made it to this step with me?” The ambiguity flowed silently between us. By the end, I couldn’t laugh anymore. I was held tightly in his arms, crying softly. September in the city was beautiful, the autumn colors crisp and clear. Videos of tourists going to the mountains to pray for good fortune were all over social media. I begged him to go with me. He stayed up for several nights straight to finish his work projects, just to clear his schedule for a day to go with me. On the winding mountain paths, he held my hand tightly, walking up hundreds of stone steps, watching my every move, terrified I’d trip and fall. But later, after I left him, I realized… in a lifetime, who doesn’t stumble and fall eventually? Back then, I really, truly loved him. 03 When did things start to change? I think it was when I saw that photo. It was our fifth month together. Cole had a massive social circle, and for his birthday, everyone was going all out to celebrate. They started planning it weeks in advance. I was on break at the time, so I helped out with the preparations. Because we spent so much time together, his friends never filtered their conversations around me. Slowly, I learned that Cole had actually put his heart on the line for a girl once. He had seriously proposed, carefully picked out a ring, and booked a venue for an engagement party. But in the end, because of a minor misunderstanding, the girl felt he didn’t love her enough. They had a massive fight, both were exhausted, and she angrily left the country. He didn’t try to stop her, and they broke up just like that. They had almost gotten married. After hearing the whole story, someone showed me a photo, totally unapologetic: “Honestly, you do look a bit like Chloe. If you didn’t, we wouldn’t have bet on you in the first place.” In the photo, Chloe was smiling brightly. She looked exactly like the girl in the sketch, standing under the oak tree. When I first learned about the bet, I just thought they were bored rich kids. But looking at it now, I realized the only truly stupid person in this situation was me. Everyone knew that he had never gotten over his breakup with his first love. He still tracked her every move. Every year on her birthday, he would send someone across the world to deliver the most expensive, exquisite jewelry. If she ran into any trouble over there, someone would quickly relay the message to him. And no matter what, he would fly out there and quietly solve everything for her. He wouldn’t let her know, he wouldn’t contact her, but he also hadn’t let her go. Only I was naive enough to believe that to him, I was actually someone special. Finally, someone joked: “Ever since Chloe left, Cole’s been cycling through girlfriends constantly. We all guess he’s just doing it to force her to come back.” Everyone in the room laughed. Cole finished his phone call and walked back in. He sat next to me, gently squeezing my hand, and let out a low chuckle: “What are you guys talking about? You look so happy.” I looked at him, an icy chill spreading through my heart, and said numbly: “They’re talking about your first love.” He froze, a rare moment of distraction crossing his face. In the end, he never even said her name. He just said dismissively: “What’s there to talk about?” That was the first time I seriously considered breaking up with him. Honestly, I should have thanked his friends for not keeping me in the dark. It was precisely because they didn’t care about my feelings that they told me all this, waking me up so I could see the reality of the situation. It made me realize that I was just a passing tourist in Cole’s life. I was just a tool he was using to love someone else. 04 After that day, I faintly felt that something had shifted between me and Cole. But neither of us brought up Chloe. He showed absolutely no intention of explaining anything to me. He became even more generous with me. He took me to exclusive charity auctions, and if I so much as glanced at an item for more than a second, it would be delivered to me shortly after. I forget who told me. They said Cole treated every single ex-girlfriend exceptionally well. When they broke up, he was never stingy. Whatever they wanted, he gave them—whether it was cash or career connections. It almost felt like a transaction: money for services rendered. The night before his birthday, he had someone deliver two transfer deeds to me. A luxury condo, and a high-end sports car. When I received them, my fingertips went ice cold. My hands were shaking as I called him. He answered almost immediately. I pretended everything was normal and asked: “Giving me such a huge gift right before your birthday… don’t you feel like you’re losing out?” “Losing out on what? I like you. I want to treat you well,” he replied, his tone slightly elevated, laced with a smile. It sounded like the sweet teasing of a couple deeply in love. I dug my nails into my palms, forcing myself to stay calm. “These things are too expensive. This is practically a dowry.” He was silent for a long time. I pressed my lips together, tears falling silently. Finally, his voice paused slightly, before he said casually: “Maya. “Stop overthinking things. Go to sleep early. I’ll pick you up tomorrow night.” Was I supposed to believe him? That he was doing all this because he liked me, and not because he was preparing to break up with me? 05 The next day, Cole picked me up as promised. As soon as we arrived at the venue, his phone rang. He stared at the string of numbers on the screen for a long time before letting go of my hand: “Go on inside first. I need to take this call.” For a man like him to actually hesitate like that… I said okay. After walking inside, I found a random spot to sit down. Not long after, some guys came in from outside. “It’s freezing out there. Who is Cole on the phone with?” “Who else? Chloe. I caught the end of it—sounds like she’s moving back in a few days.” “Seriously? Cole must be absolutely thrilled.” When a story of people waiting years for each other finally gets a happy ending, everyone is happy for them, regardless of who it is. Someone finally sighed: “After all this time, the person by Cole’s side is still Chloe.” It’s just that in moments like this, when everyone is reminiscing about the past and getting emotional about their deep connection, it made me—the current, official girlfriend—feel incredibly superfluous. Like an outsider. When Cole came inside, they had stopped talking about it. He kept his lips pressed in a tight line, his expression dark, hiding a subtle trace of irritation. But when he saw me, he masked those emotions. He walked over, squeezed my hand, and smiled: “Having fun? You’re going to help me cut the cake later.” I said okay. After cutting the cake, I would initiate the breakup. Keep it dignified and complete. After this, we truly wouldn’t see each other again. 06 In the end, I didn’t get to cut the cake with him. Because not long after he said that, someone from outside brought in a gift. It was sent by Chloe. It was an extremely expensive luxury watch. The exact brand Cole always wore. Ironically, my gift was also a watch. But I couldn’t afford that brand; I had bought the best one I could within my budget. Cole had only glanced at the one I gave him before having someone put it away. But the one from Chloe, he stared at it for a long time. So long that the knuckles of his hand gripping the watch strap turned white. His gaze was deep and complex. Finally, he lifted his hand and put the watch on. Someone took a picture and sent it to their group chat, saying that “Little Chloe” had great taste, and it was no wonder Cole hadn’t been able to forget her after all these years. I wasn’t originally supposed to see this, but a girl sitting next to me—Cole’s cousin—was probably too excited and didn’t check who was sitting next to her. She grabbed my arm, squealed, and shoved her phone in my face. “Look, they’re so perfect together.” On the screen, Chloe had replied: [As long as he likes it. You guys keep an eye on him for me, don’t let him drink too much.] And then people started cheering and clapping. I was pushed to the very back of the crowd. I clapped along with them. At the very bottom of the gift box, there was a card. The handwriting was elegant: [Though we are far apart, our hearts know each other. The distance between us means nothing.] Cole froze slightly, his hand gripping the card going stiff. Then, for some reason, as if he remembered something, his expression suddenly turned frantic. He looked up, scanning the room, until his gaze finally locked onto me through the crowd. I gave him a calm smile and mouthed: “Happy Birthday.” Only then did he seem to let out a sigh of relief, but he didn’t ask me to cut the cake with him anymore. He had a lot of friends, and they partied hard. It didn’t take long for him to get completely wasted. No one was paying attention to me, so I just watched from the sidelines. When it was over, his friends helped him upstairs. I didn’t follow them. I decided to just leave. A breakup didn’t necessarily have to be done face-to-face. As I was heading for the door, one of his close friends chased after me. He looked around until he found me, then shoved a hotel key card into my hand. He spoke hurriedly: “Cole is waiting for you in the penthouse suite. Go up and keep him company.” I knew this guy. His name was Julian. He was Cole’s best friend, and out of all the guys in his circle, he was the one I was most familiar with. But honestly, he looked down on me too. He had always firmly believed that I was no different from Cole’s past girlfriends—just a fling that wouldn’t last, someone he’d never truly care about. The real love of his life was coming back. What good was a cheap knockoff? 07 I didn’t take the key card. Over the loud music, I spoke: “Tell him, whatever was between us… it ends right here.” Julian looked shocked, like he hadn’t heard me clearly. The hand holding the key card twitched: “What did you say?” I patiently repeated it, word for word. Julian frowned, staring at me for a moment: “Are you serious? You know how he operates. Once it’s over, there’s no taking it back.” He never got back together with an ex. Except for Chloe. Because he was always waiting for her. I nodded, my voice firm: “I know.” He pressed his lips together, looking at me: “No, but… you guys were doing so well, why suddenly…” He stopped halfway through his sentence, as if he suddenly realized something. He didn’t ask any further questions. He just nodded: “Alright, fine. You can go. But don’t forget to get all your stuff out of his apartment. “It wouldn’t be good if Chlo… if someone saw it.” I laughed softly: “Okay.” I moved quickly. That very night, I packed up everything I had left at his place and took it with me. He had given me a lot of things. I didn’t take any of it. I also left the two transfer deeds right where I found them, untouched. Since I had decided to break up, taking that stuff would only be emotional baggage, a constant reminder of what I had lost. After I got back to campus, I didn’t think about anything. I just went to sleep. I slept for a long time. When I woke up, I checked my phone. I saw a message from Cole. Just one. It was sent at 10 PM last night. I was probably talking to Julian right around that time, and then rushing to pack my things, so I hadn’t checked my phone. He said: [Come upstairs.] 08 I checked the time. It was already 2 PM. I hadn’t replied for that long, and I hadn’t gone to see him. If this had happened before last night, knowing Cole’s temper, he definitely would have called me or come looking for me himself. But right now, absolutely nothing had happened. It seemed Julian had already delivered my message. A man like him, who seemed so warm and affectionate on the surface, was actually completely emotionally detached at his core. Since I had initiated the breakup, and it was exactly what he wanted anyway, he naturally had no objections. He wouldn’t say anything more, let alone try to convince me to stay. My life returned to exactly how it was before I met Cole. I received a call from my mom. I was living alone in the city, and she worried about me constantly. Every few days, she’d try to set me up on a blind date. She just wanted me to find someone good to settle down with. After hanging up, she sent me a few phone numbers. [Make sure you add them. If you find someone you click with, give it a try.] I said I would, but I still didn’t add them. My roommate sighed and tried to advise me: “Why do this to yourself? A guy like Cole is probably going to have a new girlfriend by next week. You need to move on with your own life, don’t you?” I said it wasn’t because of him. I just felt that rebounding immediately into a new relationship because the last one didn’t work out was irresponsible to myself. I wouldn’t always meet the wrong people. I would get married eventually. I would find someone I truly loved, who loved me back. But I thought… just not right now. When I was eighteen and just starting grad school, the thought of meeting someone new felt impossible. But now, it seemed so easy. After the breakup, I thought Cole and I would never see each other again. But coincidence is a funny thing. I was out shopping with a friend, and as we walked out of the mall, I ran into Cole and another guy. He was dressed very formally, like he had just come from a corporate event—sharp suit, radiating that faint cedarwood cologne scent. It was a different brand than the one he used to wear. The moment our eyes met, he smiled calmly at me, gave a slight nod, and then looked away, continuing his conversation with the guy next to him. I suddenly felt a wave of relief wash over me. So this is what an amicable breakup looks like. He treats me the exact same way he treats everyone else. No fighting, no accusations, no lingering resentment. When we meet, we’re still polite acquaintances. We just walked past each other. But as I reached the crosswalk on the other side of the street, I suddenly got a phone call. It was from Cole. I was wearing a heavy trench coat. I adjusted the scarf around my neck against the biting wind, and declined the call. But less than two minutes later, he called again. I didn’t answer, and he just kept calling. Finally, I answered and said: “Mr. Sterling.” There was silence on the other end for a long time. Just as I was about to hang up, I heard him say: “Look up.” 09 Across the street, I looked at the man standing there. I couldn’t see his face clearly, nor could I tell what expression he was wearing at that exact moment. He had his hands in his pockets, looking back at me. I asked: “What do you want to say?” His voice was a little raspy. After a long pause, he spoke: “Why?” I thought for a second, then replied: “Why did I break up with you?” He gave a soft “mhm.” I felt a little baffled. A man as smart as him, who saw things so clearly… his friends all understood it perfectly. How could he possibly be asking ‘why’? I didn’t really want to get into it with him, so I gave a generic excuse: “My family wants me to get married, and they’re pressuring me a lot.” His voice faltered slightly. A few seconds later, he asked: “Just because of that?” I sighed: “Yeah.” He seemed to be contemplating something. After a moment, he spoke again: “I could marry you…” I cut him off, too exhausted to keep doing this: “I already have someone I’m planning to marry. “I heard your first love is moving back. Congratulations.” He went silent. I heard the click of a lighter on his end. After a moment, he let out a short laugh: “Yeah.” Then, he asked another question, as if just trying to fill the silence: “All the things I gave you… you didn’t take any of them. Did you not like them? Tell me what you like, and I’ll have someone send you something else.” I sighed: “There’s no need. “We shouldn’t contact each other anymore. Let’s just leave things on a good note. “Goodbye.” With that, I hung up the phone. I didn’t look at him again; I just turned and walked away. On the way home, I blocked his number and all his social media accounts. 10 That afternoon, a group of us from my program went out to dinner with our advisor. Halfway through the meal, he suddenly took a phone call: “I need to step out and grab someone. He’s technically your senior. He just got back from overseas, and he happened to be having dinner nearby.” A few minutes later, the door to the private dining room was pushed open. I looked up and saw the man standing in the doorway. He stood tall, exuding an air of effortless elegance. The sleeves of his dress shirt were rolled up halfway as he greeted us. The people next to me started whispering immediately: “Oh my god, it’s Ethan. I can’t believe he’s back in the states.” “I heard he’s incredibly brilliant. He’s made a huge name for himself internationally at such a young age, won a ton of awards. He’s the professor’s star pupil.” “Never mind all that, he is so handsome.” The atmosphere in the room was great. I smiled along with everyone else. For some reason, he looked a little familiar. Not long after he left, my phone vibrated on the table. The screen lit up with a WhatsApp message. Ethan: [Don’t remember me?] It was weird, I hadn’t even saved his contact info, but I remembered instantly. Back then, right after I started grad school, I went to a concert with a friend. When it ended, we were walking out together but got separated by the massive crowd. I was rushing to find her, turned around too fast, crashed into someone, and sprained my ankle. The guy helped me up, told me in a deep voice not to move, and immediately took me to the emergency room, even covering my medical bills. I felt terrible. It was entirely my fault, yet I had made a stranger spend hours dealing with my mess. So, when we left the hospital, I asked for his contact information. After Venmoing him the money, I blurted out: “There sure are a lot of good Samaritans in this city. And they’re all really good-looking.” He asked: “Oh? Have you met other good Samaritans?” I said: “Yeah, but I never saw him again after that.” The man thought for a moment: “I know a lot of people. Maybe I can help you find him.” But I thought about it for a long time and didn’t even know how to describe Cole. In the end, I decided against it. He smiled, his demeanor calm, intellectual, and reserved: “Alright then. I hope the next time we meet, you’ll have found what you’re looking for.” I chatted with Ethan on WhatsApp for a bit. As we were wrapping up the conversation, I thought for a moment and asked him: [Are you free tonight? I’d love to buy you dinner, to say thank you.] He said he was. We quickly settled on a time and a restaurant.

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After the college entrance exams, my niece’s diary went viral. It was titled: The Pain of Living Under Another’s Roof. Right at the start of senior year, my niece moved into our house. To make her feel less awkward about being a guest, I occasionally let her help out with some light, manageable chores. When graduation rolled around, she and my daughter both got accepted into Harvard. The local news stations were practically fighting each other to interview me, asking for my secret to raising two brilliant scholars. Just as I was happily sharing my parenting tips on camera… My niece pulled out a diary. The contents? The Pain of Living Under Another’s Roof. My niece became an overnight internet sensation, a symbol of resilience. Meanwhile, I was doxxed, dragged through the mud, and relentlessly cyberbullied by a furious mob of netizens. “Auntie, my parents sent you money for my living expenses every single month. Why did I have to live like a terrified mouse in your house? You deserve everything that’s happening to you.” In the end, because of a “slip of the tongue” where she revealed my location, a group of “righteous” vigilantes cornered me by the river. I was pushed in and drowned. When I opened my eyes again, I had been reborn. I was right back to the moment my husband’s brother dropped my niece off at our house. Heh. The pain of living under another’s roof, huh? In this life, you’re going to experience exactly what it means to actually live under someone else’s roof. 1 “Sis, we’re counting on you. I mean, since Chloe is going to the same high school as Mia for senior year, taking care of one kid is the same as taking care of two, right? I’ll wire her living expenses to your card every month. Thanks for stepping up.” I stared at the familiar text message from my brother-in-law on my phone, and then at the bank notification that had just popped up: $100.00 deposit received. I had finally confirmed it. I was reborn. Looking at that $100, I couldn’t help but laugh. They really had it all figured out. Because my daughter, Mia, was entering her crucial senior year, and I had a flexible freelance job, I had rented an apartment right next to the high school so she wouldn’t have a long commute. When my husband’s brother and his wife found out, they used the excuse of “having to go out of state for work” to dump their daughter, Chloe, at my place. Then, they claimed they would send me $100 a month for her “living expenses.” I knew damn well that $100 wouldn’t even cover a teenager’s groceries for the month. Let alone all the extra expenses a high school girl has. But I had watched this kid grow up since she was a baby. How could I possibly say no? And just like that, my niece, Chloe, moved into my house. I was so worried she would feel like a burden. I told her that her parents were sending me money for her expenses every month, but I intentionally never told her exactly how much they were sending. I just wanted her to treat this place like her own home. Whatever I bought for my daughter, I bought the exact same thing for her. From small things like stationery and pens, To big things like pocket money and expensive SAT prep courses. I never once made her feel like she was getting less than my biological daughter. In the beginning, she proactively offered to do chores, but I always refused. Later, I worried that rejecting her help would make her feel useless and hurt her pride, so I agreed to let her do some light chores that didn’t take up too much of her study time. When both girls eventually got into Harvard, I was beyond thrilled. I thought all my exhausting effort and care had finally paid off. I never imagined it was all just my own wishful thinking. I had raised an absolute snake in the grass. Thinking about how I was cyberbullied by the entire internet and ultimately murdered in my past life… This time, I absolutely would not let my bleeding heart get the better of me. 2 “Auntie, what did my dad say to you?” Chloe craned her neck, leaning right into my personal space. She was trying so hard to see my text history with her dad. In my past life, I was terrified that knowing her deadbeat parents only sent $100 would crush her, so I immediately locked my phone screen to hide the messages. But because of that, she assumed I was trying to hide how much money her parents were sending. She convinced herself I was embezzling thousands of dollars from her parents to spend on myself and my daughter. After the massive fallout following graduation… I only found out the truth from my daughter. Chloe used to call her parents constantly, crying about how terribly she was being treated at my house. Her parents, in turn, would furiously curse me out behind my back. They told Chloe that they were sending me “so much money for living expenses,” yet I was still treating their precious daughter horribly. Of course, they conveniently never mentioned that their so-called “living expenses” amounted to a pathetic $100. After cursing me out, they would tell Chloe that living in someone else’s house was just like that, and tell her to just endure it until graduation. Remembering all this, I didn’t lock my screen this time. I shoved the phone right in her face so she could see exactly what kind of people her parents were. “Look. Your parents dumped you at my house, but they only sent $100. That doesn’t even cover a fraction of the rent for one person.” It was true. $100 wouldn’t even cover the utility bill. Because this was a premium apartment in a top-tier school district, the rent was almost $4,000 a month. If we split it per person, her share of the rent alone should have been over $1,300. But she had lived here for free for a whole year, completely oblivious, and in the end, she had zero gratitude. Next, I started laying it on thick. “The rent in this school district is insane, you know? It’s almost $4,000 a month. I don’t know what your parents are thinking, sending $100. That won’t even cover your groceries for two weeks.” She was just a teenager, after all. Hearing this, her face instantly turned beet red. “Auntie, I don’t eat that much.” My daughter, Mia, stood behind me and subtly tugged on my sleeve, signaling that maybe I was being a bit too harsh. I patted Mia’s hand, turned back to Chloe, and continued: “Regardless, I’m your aunt. I won’t ask you for the rent money. Every month, you just eat what we eat. But as for anything else, you shouldn’t expect it.” “I understand, Auntie.” Watching my niece lower her head looking so pitiful, honestly, my heart softened for a second. But wasn’t it exactly this pathetic, innocent act that completely fooled me in my past life? It’s true what they say: experience is a better teacher than character. Even if she ended up getting into the best college in the country, it couldn’t change the rotten, entitled nature deep in her bones. 3 School started. And very quickly, the first major event that turned me into a massive sucker in my past life occurred. Whether it was my past life or this one, I still couldn’t wrap my head around it. As parents, how could you not even pay your own child’s tuition? Were they seriously expecting someone else to just cover it? In my past life, I had paid my daughter’s tuition online via the school portal. I had absolutely no idea that my niece’s tuition hadn’t been paid. It wasn’t until Chloe’s homeroom teacher called me into the school that I found out. That’s right—my brother-in-law and his wife had simply listed my contact information as the primary guardian on her school forms. When I rushed to the school that day, I saw my niece standing in the faculty office with her head bowed. Even though it was entirely her parents’ fault, she looked like she had committed some massive crime. My heart broke for her. I immediately pulled out my card and paid her tuition on the spot. Then, I told her to go back to class and focus on her studies. “Auntie, why didn’t Mia’s homeroom teacher call you in?” Seeing my niece looking so pitiful… How could I possibly tell her, “I already paid Mia’s tuition ages ago. Who would have guessed your deadbeat parents just completely abandoned you?” Terrified that she would grow to hate her parents, I suppressed my fury toward my brother-in-law and patiently explained: “It’s my fault, sweetheart. I paid Mia’s tuition a while ago. Your parents just sent me the money for yours yesterday, and with all the chaos of the first week of school, it completely slipped my mind!” And how did she repay me? In her viral, public diary, she wrote this exact entry: My parents clearly transferred my tuition and living expenses to my aunt ages ago, but she refused to pay the school. It wasn’t until I was publicly humiliated in front of the entire class and the teacher called her in that she reluctantly paid the tuition she should have paid before the semester even started. This tiny incident became a scar I could never forget during my entire senior year. When the second phone call from my niece’s homeroom teacher ended. My phone screen flashed with another missed call notification. I finally, with feigned exasperation, picked it up. “Hello, is this Chloe’s guardian?” “Is something wrong?” “Yes, there’s a situation. I need you to come down to the school immediately.” “I understand.” Even though I still inevitably had to make a trip to the school. This time, I wasn’t in a panic. I took my time getting ready, making sure I looked put-together. Then, I stopped by a nice bakery and bought my daughter’s favorite strawberry shortcake, and ordered a premium boba tea. Senior year is stressful. Having her favorite dessert would definitely help her relax. In my past life, because I was financially supporting two teenagers… And because I had a strict rule that whatever I bought, I had to buy two of… Combined with rent, utilities, and expensive tutoring, my husband and I were under immense financial pressure. So, I rarely bought them unnecessary treats or luxury items. But this time, I absolutely would not treat my niece as an equal. Which meant I no longer had to skimp on treating my own daughter. 4 Taking my sweet time, by the time I strolled into my niece’s homeroom teacher’s office, it had been an hour and a half. As soon as I stepped through the door, my niece and her teacher both stared at me. I casually set the cake and boba on a nearby shelf before walking over. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Davis. I’m running a bit late. Is there a problem?” Perhaps because I took so long to arrive, the teacher was clearly losing patience. Even though he tried to remain professional, his tone was noticeably sharp. “Yes, there’s a problem. Classes have officially started, but the school hasn’t received Chloe’s tuition payment. I assume you were just busy with work and forgot?” “What?!” I covered my mouth with both hands, looking absolutely shocked. My dramatic gasp caused the other teachers in the office to turn their heads and look at us. “Chloe hasn’t paid her tuition?” “Yes, it’s really not good for the student when the guardians are this negligent.” “Mr. Davis, I honestly had no idea! Before she moved here, her parents told her to just show up at my door, and then the two of them skipped town for work. Then they sent me a $100 Venmo and said it was for her ‘living expenses.’ They didn’t send a single cent for anything else! I had absolutely no idea about the tuition.” “Oh, and by the way, Mr. Davis, I am not Chloe’s legal guardian. I’m just her aunt. My daughter is in your AP class.” This high school sorted students into classes based on their standardized test scores. My daughter, whom I had raised and nurtured since birth, scored in the top ten in the entire city on her entrance exams. Naturally, she was placed in the top-tier AP class. Her grades had consistently remained at the top, never dropping once all the way into senior year. Chloe, on the other hand, wasn’t terrible, but she was in the standard-level Class 5. Her grades were mediocre at best. In my past life, to help her improve, I spent countless hours helping her climb from Class 5 all the way into the AP class. I even frequently made my own daughter sacrifice her study time to tutor Chloe and explain difficult concepts to her. When the teacher heard that I was just a relative, and not the guardian… And that my own child was one of the top students in his AP class, his tone instantly softened considerably. “Is that so? I saw your contact information listed as the primary guardian on her student profile, so I naturally called you.” “I understand, Mr. Davis. I’ll call her parents right now.” I had just pulled out my phone. Chloe suddenly tugged hard on my sleeve. “Auntie, didn’t my mom and dad transfer my tuition to you?” “What kind of nonsense are you talking about, child? You saw the chat history with your dad yesterday. He sent exactly $100. That’s not even enough for groceries. Where would I get the money to pay your tuition?” The burning stares from the other teachers in the office were too intense. My niece’s face turned completely crimson. “Could… could you please just pay it for me first? When I go home, I’ll have my parents pay you back.” “Chloe, what are you saying? Tuition for senior year is $12,000. I just paid Mia’s tuition, and I paid the rent and utilities. The rent alone is $36,000 for the year. I honestly don’t have a single extra cent on me right now. All I have is the $100 your parents sent yesterday. Do you want me to give the teacher that $100?” The teacher watched this unfold and clearly understood what was happening. He adjusted his glasses and said to me: “Why don’t you give her parents a call.” “Of course, Mr. Davis. I’m dialing right now.” I swatted away Chloe’s hand, which was desperately clutching my sleeve, and called my brother-in-law on speakerphone. “Hello, Sis.” “Hey, did you guys get so busy you forgot to pay Chloe’s tuition?” “Huh? Sis, isn’t Chloe living at your house right now?” Hearing that, I truly wanted to peel his face off to see how thick his skin was. “Yeah, she is. But look at you two—you dropped her off at my house without even a heads-up. And the rent and utilities? Since I’m her aunt, I didn’t even ask you for a dime. But $100 a month for living expenses? What is she supposed to eat on that? I won’t even get into that right now. But how could you forget something as crucial as her tuition? I’m sitting in the teacher’s office right now. You can explain it to him yourself.” The other side clearly didn’t expect me to be so blunt and publicly call out the $100 living expenses. It took the teacher saying “Hello, Mr. Evans” three times before he finally reacted. “Oh, hi, Mr. Davis. Um, my wife and I are working out of state right now. We left everything regarding Chloe in her aunt’s hands. Could she maybe…” Hearing this, I couldn’t help but interject. “Look, even though she’s not my biological child, I’ve watched her grow up. I want to pay her tuition, too. But I just paid Mia’s tuition, plus rent and utilities. That’s fifty grand gone in a flash. I literally have no money left.” “If you guys can’t afford it either, maybe you should reach out to some other relatives and see if you can borrow it?” The teacher was also very strict. “Mr. Evans, according to school policy, if the tuition is not paid, the student will have to return home and self-study until the balance is cleared before they can return to classes.” “Understood, understood. I’ll wire the tuition to her aunt right now. Mr. Davis, could you put Chloe on the phone?” Chloe trembling took the phone from the teacher’s hand and cautiously whispered, “Dad.” “You worthless brat! All you know how to do is spend my money! I don’t even know how much you’ve cost me since you were born. I’m telling you right now, you better get into a top-tier college, or you’ll be a complete disgrace to me and your mother!” After screaming at her, he immediately hung up the phone. And after I received the transferred tuition from my brother-in-law, I didn’t waste a single second and immediately transferred it to the teacher. 5 As soon as we walked out of the office doors, Chloe finally couldn’t hold it in anymore and burst into tears. “Auntie, I know my parents caused you a lot of trouble by making me stay at your house. I can go live in the dorms, but could you please not treat me like this? Could you please go back to being the nice auntie you used to be?” Looking at her like this, I let out a heavy sigh. “Chloe, it’s not that Auntie wants to be this way. You saw it yourself. Your parents didn’t give me any money, and our family isn’t wealthy either. When you used to come over when you were little, didn’t I always buy two of everything, one for you and one for your cousin? And that gold locket you wear around your neck? I bought that for you when you were born. If I had the money, why wouldn’t I spend it on you? Am I right? The only people you can blame are your parents, not yourself. Sigh… never mind, just go to class.” After a solid dose of guilt-tripping, I sent her off to class. This time, I absolutely wouldn’t give her unconditional, unrewarded devotion like I did in my past life. I had to make sure she knew exactly how good I was to her in the past, and that her parents’ negligence was the reason she was facing humiliation now. Feeling in a great mood after saving twelve thousand dollars, I headed to the AP class to find my daughter. “Mia, I bought you some treats, and here’s a hundred bucks for pocket money. Buy whatever you want on your way home after school.” “What about… my cousin?” “Don’t worry about your cousin.” I thought my daughter would argue with me. But instead, she said, “Mom, actually, I don’t really like my cousin.” “Hmm?” “Before, she always used to ask me to cover for her and lie for her. Plus, she always takes my stuff without asking. And she even steals money from her parents.” I patted my daughter’s head, signaling her not to worry about it. I had always thought my niece was just acting like an ungrateful brat because she was a teenager living in someone else’s house during a stressful senior year. I didn’t realize she was actually rotten to the core. That evening, after we ate dinner at home. My niece proactively offered to wash the dishes. I gave her a lazy, side-long glance, then looked up at the security camera I had installed to prevent any future nonsense. “No need, no need. Auntie will wash them.” “Auntie, I really want to help out with some chores. Please let me wash them, otherwise, I won’t feel right living here.” I nodded, acting hesitant. “Alright. You’ve always been independent. Go ahead, but make sure you study hard after you’re done. Don’t fall behind on your coursework.” After giving her instructions, I took my daughter out to meet with a private tutor. When I let my daughter commute from home for her senior year, it was partly so she could have a better quality of life. But it was also because commuting meant she didn’t have to attend mandatory evening study hall at school, which freed up time for private, one-on-one tutoring. In my past life, considering the immense pressure both girls were under, I enrolled them both in a small group tutoring class. This time, there was no way I was spending my own money to send my niece to tutoring. By saving the money on that second tuition fee, I could afford to hire a high-end, private tutor for my daughter. Targeted, one-on-one tutoring would be much more effective and less stressful for her. When we got back home, my niece hurried out of her room when she heard us. “Auntie, where did you and Mia go?” “Oh, I took Mia to her tutoring session.” Chloe lowered her head, looking noticeably disappointed. “Tutoring? I thought Auntie’s family was completely broke.” I frowned. I had never realized how manipulative she could be before. I knew she was implying: If you have money, why did you refuse to pay my tuition this morning, and why are you only paying for Mia’s tutoring and ignoring me? “Chloe, this tutoring was booked during the summer break before you even moved here. The money was paid a long time ago. Do you want to go too?” “Can I, Auntie?” Seeing her eyes shining brightly at me, I knew exactly what she was scheming, but I pretended not to understand. “Me? What does it matter if I agree? The important thing is whether your parents agree! Hand me my phone, I’ll call them and ask. If they say yes, I’ll send them the tutor’s Venmo info. Once they pay, you can start going tomorrow.” “Ah, no need, Auntie. Actually, the daily homework takes up a lot of time anyway. I don’t need tutoring. I’ll just ask Mia to explain whatever she learns to me.” “Haha, you’re both seniors. Mia is exhausted from school and tutoring. You don’t need to bother her. You can just ask your teachers or classmates the next day.” “Right, right. I’ll go back to studying then.” If I hadn’t seen the resentment in her eyes and her clenched fists, I really would have thought she was as harmless and innocent as she acted. Sigh. She’s just a kid, after all. As long as you stay out of trouble for the rest of your senior year, I won’t nickel and dime you over food and basic necessities. But don’t expect me to spend another extra dime on you. 6 The next few weeks passed relatively peacefully. Until the weekend, when my husband came home from his work trip and quietly pulled me into our bedroom. “Have you been abusing Chloe?” “What?” “Look at these texts my brother and his wife sent me.” I frowned and took his phone. The gist of it was: We only sent her to your house because you’re her flesh-and-blood uncle and aunt. If you didn’t like her, you shouldn’t have agreed to let her stay. You agreed, and now you’re treating the two girls differently. I laughed out loud. “What do they mean, ‘If I didn’t like her, I shouldn’t have agreed’? Did I ever agree? The first morning of the semester, I hear a knock on the door, and boom, your precious niece is standing there with a suitcase! They dumped her on us without asking, and now they’re playing the victims?” “And let’s talk about your wonderful brother. He sent me exactly $100 and expected me to pay her $12,000 tuition! What, does he think I’m a complete idiot?” “Come on, honey, don’t be so harsh. You watched Chloe grow up, didn’t you?” “Don’t give me that bullshit. If you feel so sorry for her, and she wants to go to tutoring, YOU pay for it.” “Where would I get that kind of money? You’re the one handling the finances.” “Exactly! Do you honestly think you make a fortune? Rent, utilities, Mia’s tuition, and tutoring—I paid for all of it. That’s eighty-seven grand right there! Her own parents are too cheap to spend money on her, and I definitely don’t have any extra to throw away.” My husband clearly hadn’t realized that having a senior commuting from home cost that much. And thankfully, I had never told him how much I actually made from my freelance writing. Otherwise, he’d expect to fund two kids in the best school district in the city on his dead-end salary. In his dreams. “Alright, alright. Providing her with food and a roof over her head is more than generous. The rest is her parents’ problem. We shouldn’t worry about it.” With that, I turned to go wash up. Just in time to see my niece’s bedroom door abruptly click shut. She must have heard everything. But I hadn’t said anything wrong. If she heard it, she heard it. 7 The midterm exam results came out. My daughter actually jumped from 23rd in her grade to 9th. Looking at her report card, I was thrilled. This was the first time she had ever broken into the top ten! Everyone knows that the higher your rank, the harder it is to move up. Hiring that top-tier private tutor was definitely worth it. Meanwhile, my niece, without the extra tutoring or my daughter’s help, saw her grades slip. Combined with the fallout from the tuition incident at the start of the year, rumor had it she had become withdrawn and stopped talking to her teachers and classmates. Her rank dropped from the 200s down to the 400s. Right on cue, my husband’s brother called. “Hello.” “Tsk.” With that attitude? I hung up immediately. He called back a moment later, and I casually answered. “Sis, why did you hang up on me?” “I didn’t hear a polite greeting, so I assumed it was a scammer. What do you want?” “Why did my daughter’s grades drop so drastically?” “Bro, I think that’s a question for your daughter. At the end of the day, she’s not focusing on her studies. How is it that halfway through the semester, everyone else is improving, and she’s the only one tanking?” “Sis, I’m only speaking to you politely because you’re my brother’s wife.” Hearing that, I hung up on him again. I watched him call three more times before I finally answered. “If you can’t speak to me with respect, I won’t answer again.” “I just want to know how a kid who was consistently ranking in the 200s during her freshman and sophomore years suddenly drops so low after living at your house for half a semester. You need to take responsibility for this.” “First of all, the academic difficulty spikes dramatically in senior year. A drop in grades is completely normal. Second, if you really think living at my house is the problem, then let her move back into the school dorms.” Honestly, I really hoped she would move back into the dorms. It would make my life so much easier. But I knew for a fact my brother-in-law would never agree. Not only would he have to pay boarding fees, but he’d also have to give her at least $300 a month for food. He was way too cheap for that. “Sis, what are you talking about? I just… I heard Mia’s grades have been great. They’re cousins, right? You should have Mia help her out more. Also, I heard Mia has a private tutor. Why don’t you have the tutor teach both of them? Teaching one is the same as teaching two. You shouldn’t play favorites with the girls.” “Bro, it’s not that I won’t allow it. But the hourly rate for private tutoring is completely different for one student versus two. Do you think a top-tier tutor works for free? If you want Chloe to take the classes, I’ll send you the tutor’s Venmo. You can talk to her yourself. It’s about $1,500. Since you and your wife are both working, I’m sure you wouldn’t cheap out on your daughter’s education.” “Sis, I think you’re just obsessed with money.” This time, before I could hang up, he hung up on me. Heh. I have no idea who he was “hearing” all these rumors from. It’s so hard to guess. Clearly, that little brat Chloe had been running her mouth and “complaining” to her parents. 8 The next day. After breakfast, Chloe stood up and bowed deeply. “Auntie, I’ve been doing the dishes for the past half-semester. But you saw my grades drop. I’m not like Mia; I don’t have a private tutor. So I want to dedicate more time to studying. From now on, I won’t be doing any more chores.” I narrowed my eyes. “That’s fantastic, Chloe. I told you before not to do them, but you insisted. Now that you’re voluntarily stepping back from chores to focus on your studies, that’s absolutely perfect.” After both girls left for school, I pulled out my phone and checked her TikTok account, which I had accidentally discovered a few days ago. In my memory of my past life, my niece did eventually become an influencer riding on her viral fame. But it was after graduation, fueled by that diary. In this life, however, my local feed pushed a video from a creator documenting The Pain of Living Under Another’s Roof. At first, I wasn’t sure it was her. But after scrolling through a few posts, I confirmed it. For example, her entry on the first day of school: Mia and I started school on the same day. My aunt only remembered to pay Mia’s tuition, but she didn’t pay mine. It wasn’t until the teacher called her into the office that she reluctantly paid it. The comments under that post were full of people tearing me to shreds. But there were a couple of logical people asking: Did she not pay because your parents didn’t give her the money, or did they give it to her and she just refused to pay? And her response was incredibly vague: I saw my dad transfer money to her the day before. I just wanted to laugh. Day 7 of school: My aunt buys Mia cakes and boba every single day. If only I wasn’t just staying at her house, I could eat the cakes my mom buys me too. Actually, my aunt doesn’t need to sneak them into Mia’s room. She could just eat them openly. I wouldn’t be upset. Still a sea of hate comments. “How can an aunt not even give a child a piece of cake?” “Is this really necessary? So much for treating them equally. Didn’t you say your parents sent her living expenses? I’m begging you to ask for the money back and live on your own.” “Screw her. With a petty attitude like that, I hope her own kid gets treated the same way someday.” But there were a couple of dissenting voices: “Hold on, it’s her own money. She can buy whatever she wants for her own kid. You make it sound so tragic, but why don’t you just go back to your own house then? Why are you staying there making yourself miserable? And saying you ‘wouldn’t be upset’—then why post about it? Aren’t you just trying to get people to cyberbully your aunt?” “I agree with the comment above. Being a relative is hard these days. I’m sure if your parents gave her enough money, she wouldn’t treat you like this. If they didn’t give her enough, do you expect her to subsidize you out of pocket? Besides, apart from living expenses, did you pay rent? Don’t be a freeloader playing the victim.” I silently liked those two comments and kept scrolling. Day 30 of school: I’m so jealous that Mia doesn’t have to do chores, and she gets private tutoring. I didn’t even bother opening the comment section, but the top comment caught my eye. “Girl, I’ve been following your posts for a while. Your aunt is straight-up abusing you. You need to fight back. Start by refusing to do chores. Tell your parents you refuse to live there anymore. You’d be much better off taking your living expenses and staying in the school dorms.” “Exactly! Fight back! If your aunt tries to force you, just dox her! Post her info and address, and we’ll get justice for you!” My brow furrowed. In my past life, these “righteous” netizens, blind to the truth, were the ones who killed me. Looks like I needed to keep a close eye on this. If she actually dared to dox my real information, she couldn’t blame me for what came next.

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During a game of Truth or Dare, I asked Caleb, “If you could do it all over again, would you choose me or Chloe?” Caleb downed a shot of whiskey, his eyes clouding with a strange sense of loss. “I was too broke back then. Chloe would have only suffered if she stayed with me.” So, he chose me. But things were different now. He had money. He had power. He had status. He had built a perfect, gilded cage to protect Chloe. He was even willing to drop to one knee and let her rest her foot on his leg. As for me, he simply didn’t understand. “I already gave you the title of Mrs. Vance. What more do you want?” One Today was my birthday. Caleb asked me what my birthday wish was. I took off my earrings, tossed them aside, and blew out the candles with zero enthusiasm. But then, I clasped my hands together reverently and said with absolute sincerity: “I wish we could get this divorce finalized quickly.” That single sentence stopped Caleb dead in his tracks. The smile on his face, which hadn’t been very bright to begin with, slowly vanished. After a long moment, he sighed and rubbed his temples in frustration. “Are you still mad?” “I rushed all the way back here for you.” “Stop throwing the word ‘divorce’ around so casually. I might actually take you seriously one of these days.” I just looked at him. The exhaustion on his face was obvious. He had just spent a week playing tourist in Scandinavia with Chloe. He must be exhausted. Then, a nine-hour flight. Followed by a non-stop drive straight to the estate, just to see me. He had the staff prepare a cake in advance and ordered the housekeeper to buy fresh groceries. The minute he walked through the door, he personally cooked an entire table of my favorite food. He was so busy rushing to get this done that he hadn’t even changed out of his travel clothes. All just to celebrate my birthday. If he had done this any of the previous years, I would have been crying tears of joy, convinced I was the luckiest woman in the world. But this year was destined to be different. I felt absolutely nothing. In fact, I was a little annoyed. I looked him dead in the eyes, my expression blank: “Divorce. Divorce. Divorce. Did you hear me clearly enough? If not, I can keep saying it. Please, I am begging you to take me seriously.” Caleb’s face turned to stone. He clenched his jaw so tightly I could see the muscles pulsing in his cheek. He violently kicked a chair, the wood scraping harshly against the floor. “Audrey, that’s enough.” “How long are you going to keep throwing this tantrum? Is this fun for you?” He took several deep breaths, trying to force his temper down. “I didn’t miss your birthday. I rushed back to celebrate with you. You’ve made your point. Drop it.” “I’m going upstairs to take a shower. You need to calm down.” With that, he turned and marched upstairs without looking back. I looked at the sickeningly sweet buttercream cake and the still-steaming food on the table, feeling genuinely baffled. Why did he think that rushing back to celebrate my birthday meant a damn thing to me now? My friends had prepared fireworks, top-shelf liquor, and hot guys for me. I could have had a perfect, wild birthday with them. But it was completely ruined by Caleb showing up uninvited. He had played the gentle, devoted gentleman, grabbing my hand firmly in front of everyone. He had smiled politely at my friends and said, “Do you mind if I borrow Audrey for the night?” And then he had aggressively dragged me away. I didn’t struggle. I didn’t fight back. I even kept a smile on my face. Not because I was happy. But because I was so used to maintaining my dignity in public that I instinctively avoided making a scene. Two Caleb was taking a shower upstairs. I leaned back on the sofa and lit a cigarette. My phone rang just as I was lighting my second one. It was a call from Chloe. It rang for a solid thirty seconds. I just sat there watching the screen, ignoring it. I crushed the cigarette butt into the ashtray and poured myself a glass of wine. The phone rang again. Still Chloe. I hit accept and put it on speaker. Chloe’s spoiled, arrogant voice blasted through the speaker. “Where is Caleb? Put him on.” I didn’t answer, taking a slow sip of my red wine instead. “Audrey, say something. I know you’re listening.” “Put Caleb on the phone. I need to talk to him.” “Tsk. If his phone wasn’t off, do you really think I’d be calling you? You’re so annoying!” I could hear the barely suppressed rage in her voice. I offered a cold, detached smirk. “He’s in the shower.” “What do you want?” Chloe went dead silent. A few seconds later, she finally spoke again, her voice dripping with venom. “You two really don’t waste a single second, do you?” “Is screwing the only thing you two ever do?” “Disgusting!” Her outburst actually made me laugh out loud. “I’m sleeping with my legal husband. The cops couldn’t arrest me if they tried. Why are you so pressed?” “Or what, did you expect him to save himself for you?” “What the hell are you talking about?!” Chloe snapped defensively. “I wouldn’t stoop so low as to sleep with him. Caleb might be a prize to you, but to me, he’s nothing.” She sounded pretty confident saying that. But I was too lazy to argue with her. “Tell me what you want, or I’m hanging up.” “The passcode!” Chloe demanded urgently. “What’s the passcode to the house? It’s a long string of numbers, and it’s so annoying to remember.” Three The passcode. The passcode to every single property he owned, and the lock screen code to Caleb’s phone. It hadn’t changed in all these years. I had asked Caleb once what those six numbers meant. Caleb had answered casually, “Nothing. Just random numbers.” For a while, I actually believed him. Later, I was holding his phone and casually punched those numbers into the T9 keypad. The predictive text spelled out a word: Chloe. (Translator’s note: T9 keyboards map letters to numbers. e.g., 2=ABC, 3=DEF. The numerical mapping in English wouldn’t perfectly match the Chinese Pinyin, but the concept of a numeric code translating to a name via T9 remains the same). I didn’t say another word, hung up the phone, and tossed it onto the sofa. Just as I was pouring myself another glass of wine, Caleb walked out in a bathrobe. He was towel-drying his hair as I handed him a document. “What’s this?” “Divorce papers. Sign them.” Caleb glared at me coldly and tried to walk right past me toward the liquor cabinet. I swung my arm out and swept the entire table of food onto the floor. The loud, chaotic crash of shattering plates was deafening in the quiet, early-morning house. Caleb lost his temper and stepped aggressively toward me. “What the hell do you want? Is this really just because I didn’t get back in time for your birthday party?” I let out a harsh, mocking laugh. “Who the hell do you think you are? Get over yourself.” “These divorce papers… you can either sit down and sign them peacefully, or we can wage a scorched-earth war and you can sign them then. Your choice.” Caleb’s jaw was clenched tight. He angrily threw the towel onto the floor. “You’re being completely unreasonable.” He turned and started walking toward the stairs again. I spoke up. “Chloe just called.” “She said she couldn’t reach you and didn’t know the passcode to get into her house.” Caleb stopped dead in his tracks. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” “Did you give her the passcode?” “Why would I give it to her?” I said coldly. Caleb’s frown deepened into a scowl. He started rushing up the stairs to change his clothes. But I moved faster. With lightning speed, I charged up the stairs and kicked him square in the back. As he fell forward, I drove my knee into his spine and wrenched his arm behind him. Caleb let out a muffled groan and yelled in pain and anger. “Audrey, what the hell are you doing?!” I leaned down close to his ear and slapped the contract against the side of his face. “Sign the divorce papers.” “Otherwise, you’re not leaving this house.” “And your precious little princess can freeze outside all night.” This time, Caleb was silent for a very long time. “Do you know what I hate most about you? It’s that you always resort to violence.” Four My relationship with Caleb was complicated. During our poorest years, we lived in the same crappy apartment building—him upstairs, me downstairs—but we never spoke a single word to each other. My mom was beautiful. She had me when she was nineteen, and after that, there was a revolving door of men in her life. My grandmother, deeply regretting how my mom turned out, raised me like a tomboy. She even sent me to learn self-defense from the guy who lived downstairs. That guy was a boxing coach, built like a brick house, but he had a sickly, fragile son who he treated like a delicate porcelain doll. That was Caleb and his dad. When we were kids, I would drag Caleb around to play. I protected him, told him he was my sidekick, and said I’d always have his back. I had his back for ten years. Until my grandmother passed away, and his father died. We became two kids with absolutely no one to rely on. We should have clung to each other to survive the cold. But weirdly, without any specific reason, he started distancing himself from me. I wasn’t an idiot. I felt the rejection. So I stopped trying to force my way into his life. He had good grades and he was good-looking, but his personality was cold and his body was weak. He didn’t fit in with anyone. In high school, teenage boys are full of aggressive energy. Some guys started bullying him. I overheard a few guys from the basketball team talking: “That pretty boy is so annoying. We should just break one of his fingers.” Caleb’s fingers. Those were the fingers he used to read, to write, to claw his way to a better life. I followed them after school and used the techniques Caleb’s dad had taught me to beat the living hell out of them. I got banged up too, but it didn’t matter. I had thick skin. I could take it. As I was walking up the stairs to my apartment with my backpack, I saw Caleb waiting in the shadows with a dark expression. He pulled me into his apartment, brought out a first-aid kit, and expertly cleaned and bandaged my wounds. That was the first time I had been inside his apartment since his dad died. Caleb’s dad had been stabbed to death while trying to stop a mugging. With his skills, he could have easily handled those guys, but one of them pulled a knife. The knife went into Caleb’s dad’s stomach, was pulled out, and plunged in again. He didn’t even survive long enough to see Caleb one last time. The person he saved moved away overnight, disappearing completely. The guy who stabbed him went to prison, but didn’t pay a single cent in restitution. Caleb knelt in front of his grave, expressionless, saying his dad had it coming for playing the hero when he couldn’t handle it. He said the thing he hated most in the world were people who only knew how to solve problems with their fists. And it was from that moment on that he refused to speak to me anymore. That day, he kept his head down, tending to the cuts on my hands. His voice was very soft and slow. He said: “Audrey, don’t ever fight anyone again. Especially not for me.” Five It had been a long time since Caleb looked this pathetic. He forcefully scrawled his signature on the last page of the document. He threw the divorce papers onto the floor. He threw his clothes on and stormed out of the house. I slept like a baby. I woke up naturally, then called a moving company to start packing my things. When Caleb got back, the movers were carrying a massive oil painting out the front door. “What are you doing? Who told you to move that?” Caleb jumped out of his car and jogged over, looking furious. The movers exchanged confused glances. I slowly walked out of the house. “I told them to. What’s the problem?” Caleb took a deep breath. “What are you pulling now?” “Isn’t that my painting? Audrey, I bought that. Why didn’t you tell me? You are so annoying.” Chloe stepped out of the passenger side of the car. Even though she was saying ‘annoying,’ her eyes were sparkling as she looked at the painting. Caleb froze, instinctively looking at me. I offered a faint smile. “Actually, I bought it.” “I was blind back then. I spent almost twenty grand on this massive thing, and now, the more I look at it, the more it disgusts me.” That was during the hardest period of Caleb’s startup phase. He was working himself to the bone, but he still made time to take me out. He took me to an art exhibition. I didn’t know how to appreciate art. I couldn’t tell what was good or bad. But I noticed he stopped in front of one specific oil painting for a very long time, looking reluctant to leave it when we walked away. So, I lived on a shoestring budget and used all the money I had saved over those years to buy that oil painting as a birthday gift for Caleb. Over the years, we moved many times. The houses got bigger and bigger. And we always took that oil painting with us. I always thought he cherished it because it was a birthday gift from me. Until he rushed to Europe to bring Chloe back. Chloe posted a picture of a painting from a courtyard. The signature on the painting was exactly the same as the one on the oil painting. What does it feel like to have your entire world shattered by a single, heavy blow? It’s hard to describe. I just know I crouched on the floor for a long time, my face deathly pale, biting my teeth together so hard I tasted blood. Six My words clearly triggered Chloe. She angrily stepped forward, ready to confront me. “What is that supposed to mean?” Caleb grabbed her arm, stopping her from reaching me. Chloe stared at him in disbelief. “You’re protecting her?” She shook off Caleb’s hand, her eyes red with anger, and turned to run back to the car. Caleb didn’t grab her again, but his voice softened. “Alright, go wait in the car. I’ll take you to meet Director Ford in a minute.” Chloe puffed out her cheeks, looking furious. She glared at me. But ultimately, she obediently got into the car. Caleb looked like he wanted to say something. I looked at him with a mocking smile. “Chloe doesn’t get it, but I do. You look like you’re stopping her, but you’re actually protecting her.” “But you don’t need to worry. I wouldn’t touch her. Risking myself to hurt her isn’t worth it.” Caleb’s expression stiffened for a fraction of a second. But he was a master manipulator, and he quickly recovered his composure. “You need to stop imagining things.” “Chloe… I’m just helping her out because of our past.” “You don’t need to project those filthy, malicious thoughts onto her and me.” Hypocrite! That was the only word I could think of. I let out a cold laugh. “Is it that you don’t want to?” “No, it’s that you don’t deserve her!” Chloe was a rich, spoiled heiress. When Caleb and I were surviving on five dollars a day, she was wearing a twelve-thousand-dollar hairpin. A little princess like her… we shouldn’t have ever even crossed paths. But that year, she transferred to our school and spent a year in our class. The arrogant, privileged little princess took one look at Caleb and decided she wanted him. “Hey, can I sit next to you?” “No.” “Can you tutor me in math?” “I don’t have time.” “Caleb, I like you.” “I don’t like you.” After being rejected over and over again, the little princess turned her embarrassment into anger. She started targeting Caleb. Like pouring milk all over his homework. Like dumping a whole bowl of soup on his clothes. Like mocking him for not even being able to afford a new pair of shoes. Like framing him for stealing her fountain pen. Caleb told me to stay out of it, saying he could handle it. But the reality was his grades kept dropping. I took it upon myself to find Chloe. I warned her that if she touched Caleb again, I wouldn’t go easy on her. Caleb was furious with me that time. He forced me to apologize to Chloe, then carried me home on his back. He said to me: “We can’t afford to mess with people like Chloe. We just have to endure it. We endure it until we don’t have to look at their faces anymore.” I always thought Caleb hated Chloe. But people are complicated. There is no pure love, and there is no pure hate. It’s always a tangled mess of both. Seven Caleb ignored the busy movers in the mansion, grabbed the documents he needed, and turned to leave. He left me with one sentence: “Do whatever you want.” Well, if he said I could do whatever I wanted, then I would. I threw away the oil painting, threw away our wedding photos, threw away the bed from the master bedroom, and even threw away Caleb’s entire closet full of clothes. Finally, a moving truck hauled away all my belongings, driving off in a grand procession. That night, I slept on a floor mat in my still-unpacking new apartment, staring at the ceiling until the sun came up before finally falling asleep. When I woke up, I was already lying in a properly made bed. I wasn’t surprised. I didn’t think I was sleepwalking, or that a burglar had broken in. The only person who could find me here was Caleb. Sure enough, when I walked out of the bedroom, he was in the kitchen boiling pasta. Caleb was quick at everything. Back in the day, when we were too poor to afford any pre-made food. Caleb did everything himself. Cooking rice, stir-frying, making soup—he could always whip up something decent on the first try. I was the exact opposite. He never understood it. “Can’t you just follow the recipe? Why do you have to get creative?” I didn’t understand him either. “We’re just missing green onions. Does it really matter? Why do you have to run all the way downstairs to buy them?” Those chaotic, messy days were full of the warmth of real life. But thinking about it now, it feels like it happened in another lifetime. “You’re up? Brush your teeth, wash your face, and eat breakfast.” I didn’t move. “My name is on the lease for this place. Don’t come here anymore.” Caleb’s hand, stirring the pasta, stopped. He turned off the stove, shut off the range hood, and turned around. He asked me: “I can promise you right now that Chloe’s presence will never threaten our marriage. You will always be Mrs. Vance. What exactly are you dissatisfied with?” Eight This was exactly what I was dissatisfied with. He thought I should just swallow my pride and accept it. “Do you realize how brief my ‘good life’ has been?” The day before yesterday was my thirtieth birthday. Ten months ago, I was pregnant. Six months before that, Caleb’s company went public. At eighteen, we got into a good university. Caleb started dabbling in finance by trading stocks, while simultaneously studying software development. I didn’t have his brains, so I bought and sold cheap goods for a small profit, and later worked as a sparring partner at a boxing gym. By his sophomore year, he had some savings, and he got bolder. I rented a small storefront near campus and became a small business owner. In the second semester of his sophomore year, he lost everything. I sold off everything in my shop, took all my savings, and helped him cover his debts. At twenty, you never lack the courage to start over. He promised me he’d give me a good life someday. I said we’d work hard together. He wrote code and developed software. I worked as a private personal trainer, one-on-one. Later, he wanted to start his own tech company and needed seed money. Once again, I gave him everything I had and took out several massive loans. Caleb even sold his old family home. It was an all-or-nothing gamble, and he succeeded. From a small startup to a major corporation, and finally an IPO, it took him seven years. Those seven years. The first three, I worked for him for free. The last two, he supported me. There was a high school reunion, and we played Truth or Dare. Caleb chose Truth. The question was: “If you could do it all over again, would you choose Audrey or Chloe?” It was a question that made me feel a little dizzy, a little tense. But Caleb made his choice almost instantly. He pulled me close and said without hesitation: “Our Audrey, of course. A hundred times over, it would always be Audrey.” A friend asked him: “Really?” Later, they were hiding out on the balcony smoking. Caleb had left his phone inside, and I went to bring it to him. I happened to hear him say: “I was too broke back then. Chloe would have only suffered if she stayed with me.” “A rich, spoiled princess like her, how could she ever handle that kind of hardship?” “And… what about Audrey?” “Audrey is different. She… she’s never been afraid of hard work.” It was a very strange feeling. Even looking back on it now, I still can’t believe it was me standing there listening to those words. It felt like I was an audience member watching a scene play out on stage. I wasn’t sad. I wasn’t humiliated. I was completely numb. I felt absolutely nothing. I didn’t confront Caleb, and I didn’t cause a scene. Three normal months passed. So normal that when I try to look back on it now, I can’t even remember what I was doing or thinking during those three months. I didn’t understand why. At first, I really didn’t understand. It wasn’t until much later that I learned a term for it: Dissociation. Under extreme, unbearable trauma, the body initiates a self-defense mechanism. It acts like a circuit breaker, temporarily severing the connection between the physical body and the source of the trauma to prevent a total psychological collapse. That’s probably what happened to me. My grandmother always told me to live like a weed, not a delicate flower. Even if you’re crushed to the ground, as long as there’s a breath left in you, you can grow back. I began to rebuild myself. First physically, then professionally, and finally mentally. I worked out, burned fat, and sculpted my body. I reached out to wealthy housewives, training them, planning their diets, and helping them get in shape. They became the first VIP members of my very first fitness club. Once you have money, you can skip a lot of the hard parts and make even more money. In the beginning, Caleb just thought I was killing time, his words and demeanor full of condescension. But when I opened my first franchise location, he showed up to help me cut the ribbon. He held my waist and looked at me, his eyes filled with a new seriousness, respect, and attention. I got busier and busier. Hosting training seminars, doing live streams, recording fitness courses, giving motivational speeches. When a person starts making massive strides forward, their mindset grows like a wild vine, quickly building its own complex network. And it was from that moment on that I began, thread by thread, severing the ties that bound Caleb to me.

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I died at forty-five, my body a hollowed-out shell of used-up parts. But when I opened my eyes, I was back in the mountain air of Montana, the sun biting at my skin. I was standing right outside the staff dorms. David was there, leaning against his truck, checking his watch. We were supposed to drive down to the county clerk’s office to sign our marriage license. In my past life, this was the day I chained myself to a ghost. Back then, David found out I was pregnant, and then he vanished. He stayed gone for twenty years, chasing a woman named Rose. He only came back when I was on my deathbed. He didn’t come for me, though. He sat by my side, staring at a faded photograph of Rose—who had died shortly before—and whispered, “If I’d just waited a little longer to sign those papers with you, would things have ended differently?” 1 The realization that I had traveled back hit me like a physical blow. David looked younger, his face unlined by the decades of guilt he’d eventually carry. “Ready, Nora?” he asked, flashing that easy, clean-cut smile that used to make my heart skip. “I forgot I have to drop off some blueprints at the site office,” I lied, my voice steadier than I felt. “Why don’t you head to the clerk’s office first? I’ll meet you there in an hour.” He hesitated, then shrugged. “Sure. Don’t be late. They close at four.” The moment his truck kicked up dust down the trail, I turned and headed the opposite way. I climbed the ridge toward Mrs. Adler’s place. She was an old local who lived in a cabin overlooking the valley. I spent the morning in her weathered rocking chair, watching the mist roll over the pines. The sun felt different today—heavy, like it was trying to anchor me to this new reality. Mrs. Adler handed me a mug of hot cider. “Thought you were supposed to be eloping with that engineer today, Nora. What are you doing up here chasing clouds?” I took a slow sip, the warmth spreading through my chest. “I had a nightmare, Mrs. Adler. I woke up and realized I couldn’t breathe.” She patted my hand, her skin like parchment. “Dreams are just shadows, honey. Life is what’s in front of you. Once you’re Mrs. David Miller, you’ll have a house and a life. No use being scared of shadows.” I looked at her and forced a smile. “You’re right. I just needed a moment to think.” Marry David? Not in this lifetime. Not in any lifetime. 2 In the life I left behind, we signed the papers and walked out of that office as husband and wife. We hadn’t gone ten feet before he collided with a girl. Her name was Rose. She was a local girl, the kind with wild hair and eyes that looked like they held secrets the mountains hadn’t told anyone else. On the drive back to the site, David was silent. I thought he was just being respectful, settling into his new role as a married man. I thought he was being “proper.” I didn’t find out until the very end that he wasn’t being proper. He was mourning. That one collision had been lightning. He’d fallen in love with Rose at first sight, right there on the courthouse steps with our marriage license still damp in his pocket. He wasn’t avoiding other women for my sake; he was regretting me. He was cursing the fact that he hadn’t waited just one more day to be free. After that, the light in him went out whenever he looked at me. He spent hours staring toward the valley where Rose lived. When I asked him what was wrong, he’d snap at me or shut down. Eventually, I stopped asking. I threw myself into my work, thinking he just needed time to adjust to domestic life. When the Montana project ended, we were assigned to different states. Long distance. I thought it was a temporary sacrifice for our careers. But every time a new contract came up, he was in Maine while I was in Texas. He was in Oregon while I was in Florida. “It’s just how the firm assigned it, Nora,” he’d say over the phone, his voice flat. Years later, during a trip to the main office in Chicago, I overheard his colleagues talking. Every single “separation” had been requested by David. He was actively fleeing me. We had a screaming match that night. He held me, sobbing, apologizing for things he wouldn’t name. And then, the next morning, he was gone again. I thought our marriage was over then. But life is cruel—I found out I was pregnant. When I told him, he changed. He became the perfect husband. He moved back. He cooked for me, he pressed his ear to my stomach to listen to the baby, he walked me through the park every evening. I thought I’d finally won. Then, one Tuesday, he went out for milk and never came back. I spent twenty years looking for him. I raised our son alone. I worked two jobs. I buried my parents and his parents. I assumed he was dead. But when my heart started failing at forty-five, he appeared at my bedside. He’d been with Rose the whole time. They’d moved to a small town in Vermont and adopted a son. They gave that boy everything—all the love and presence he’d denied our biological son. The only reason he came back was that Rose had died of a broken heart, her only regret being that she was never legally his wife. David told me he was sorry, but he also said he resented me. He blamed me for being the “legal” obstacle that kept Rose from her dying wish. I wanted to scream. If you didn’t love me, why didn’t you just leave? Why didn’t you ask for a divorce? Why leave me to rot in the uncertainty of a “missing” husband while you played house with her? And the final twist of the knife? My own son, the one I’d sacrificed my health to raise, told me he envied the boy David had adopted. He told me he’d been in contact with his father for years. He’d kept David’s secret while I spent my nights weeping over old photos. 3 I stayed at Mrs. Adler’s for another hour. I didn’t rush. When I finally arrived at the county office, I saw it happening in real-time. Rose was on the ground. David was helping her up. He was staring at her with an expression I can only describe as “struck.” The irritation he’d felt waiting for me had vanished, replaced by a raw, hungry kind of awe. In my first life, I’d rushed over to help her. I’d been the one to strike up a conversation, being the “friendly wife.” I’d been so blind. Standing back now, as a spectator, it was so obvious it was sickening. “David,” I called out, my voice cool. “I’m here. Sorry I kept you waiting.” David stiffened. He looked at me, then back at Rose, his face a mask of panic and confusion. “Oh… Nora. You’re… you’re here. I was just… she fell.” I noticed Rose looking at me. In my last life, she’d been shy. This time? Her gaze was complicated. There was a flash of something sharp—was it jealousy? Or something else? I wondered: If they don’t have the marriage license to blame this time, what will they do? “Well, the clock is ticking,” I said, pointing at the office door. “Let’s go get this over with.” David’s face went pale. “Ow… my ankle,” Rose suddenly whimpered. In the first life, she hadn’t been hurt. This time, her timing was impeccable. A cold shiver went down my spine. Did she know? Was she “back,” too? I watched her closely, but her face was a mask of girlish pain. David didn’t even hesitate. He took her to the local clinic. The doctor told him there was nothing wrong—just a slight scrape that would have healed by the time they walked out the door. Rose looked embarrassed. David, however, looked relieved. As we walked back past the county office, David looked at his shoes. “Nora, they’re closed now. Maybe… maybe we should come back tomorrow?” I looked at the locked door. “We’ll see. You have to pick the right day for these things, don’t you?” There would never be a “right day” for us again. David sighed, his shoulders dropping. “Okay. I’ll tell Mrs. Adler we’re pushing it back.” 4 We had two bikes. On the ride back to the site, Rose didn’t even ask—she just hopped onto the back of David’s bike, her arms wrapping firmly around his waist. David looked at me, sheepish, but he didn’t pull away. I didn’t say a word. I pedaled ahead, the mountain wind whistling past my ears. I could hear them laughing behind me—low, intimate sounds. How long had it been since I’d heard David laugh like that? In my previous life, that sound died the moment he met her. Now, I realized it hadn’t died; it just wasn’t for me. When we reached the site dorms, the other engineers and locals watched them. They saw Rose clinging to him. They looked at me with pity or confusion, coughing and shaking their heads. I just smiled and went to my room. 5 David had already rented a small cottage near the site for our “honeymoon” phase. Most of my things were already there. I walked past the cottage on my way to the mess hall. It was a simple place—two bedrooms, a small porch. In my last life, I’d come back here and seen the red ribbons I’d hung up, feeling like the luckiest woman in the world. Nobody knew that on our wedding night, the “groom” had gone cold. We’d lain in that bed, side by side, two strangers in a room full of unspoken regrets. He hadn’t touched me. He’d just stared at the ceiling until dawn. 6 I didn’t wait for David to come back. I went to my old dorm room and pulled a manila envelope from the back of my desk. It was my transfer request back to the Chicago headquarters. It wasn’t just a transfer; it was a massive promotion. In my first life, I’d torn this paper up because I didn’t want to be away from my new husband. That choice cost me everything. My career stalled. I ended up in a dead-end administrative role because I was too busy being a single mother and a caretaker for his ungrateful parents. My son used to look at me with such disdain. “Why can’t you look like Rose?” he’d say. “Her clothes are always so nice. You’re just… tired.” Rose. He’d almost said her name back then, hadn’t he? The memory made my blood run cold. My son had been in on the betrayal for years. He’d hidden his father’s life from me while I worked myself into an early grave to buy him sneakers and pay for his college. 7 At dinner, David didn’t come by my room like he usually did. I went to the mess hall alone. I saw them immediately, tucked into a corner booth. They were sharing a plate, David leaning in close, murmuring something that made Rose giggle into her hand. When David saw me, he froze. He stood up so fast he nearly knocked over his water. “Nora! Hey. Uh, Rose just got back to town and she didn’t have any groceries. I figured I’d grab her a bite. I was going to bring you something later, I didn’t think you’d be here so early.” Early? The dinner service was almost over. The trays were nearly empty. I remembered the first life. The night we were supposed to celebrate our marriage. David said he’d go get food. He came back hours later, empty-handed, and said, “The kitchen ran out. Just go to sleep.” I’d gone to bed hungry on my wedding night while he was out feeding her. I didn’t say anything. I just grabbed a tray, took the leftovers, and went back to my room. Halfway through my meal, there was a knock. It was both of them. David looked awkward, clearing his throat. “Nora, I wanted to ask you a favor.” I looked at him, chewing slowly. He looked at Rose, who was standing there like a kicked puppy. His eyes softened—a look he never gave me. “See, Rose is back in her family’s old house, but it’s a mess. No heat, no water. And since we haven’t… you know, officially moved into the cottage yet… I thought maybe she could stay there for a few days?” I looked at Rose. She shivered, tucking herself behind David’s arm. The Rose I knew in my first life was a shadow. This Rose was a performer. I was almost certain now—she’d come back, too. She was playing the “damsel” role perfectly. “Sure,” I said. “It’s your lease, David. Do what you want.” David blinked. He’d expected a fight. He had a whole speech prepared about “Christian charity” and “neighborly duty.” “But,” I added, “I don’t like people touching my things. I’m going over there tonight to pack up my stuff.” “No need for that!” David said quickly. “I’ll just move your boxes into the spare room. She can have the main bedroom—it’s already made up.” The main bedroom. Our marriage bed. He wanted her to sleep in the bed I’d picked out for us. I saw the corner of Rose’s mouth twitch into a tiny, victorious smile. 8 After dinner, I took a flashlight and walked over to the cottage. When I arrived, David was already there, tucking Rose into bed. He was using the silk sheets I’d bought specially for our first night. “Nora,” he said, startled. “I put your boxes in the small room.” “Fine.” I went into the spare room and started dragging my boxes out. David followed me, his expression unreadable. “Nora… are you okay?” Rose drifted into the hallway. “David? Are those the sheets for your wedding? Oh, I feel terrible. Maybe I should just sleep on the floor on top of my old coat…” David’s heart clearly broke for her. He looked at me. “Nora, look, the sheets are already on the bed. It’s just for a few nights.” I saw the triumph in her eyes. She thought she was winning a prize. She didn’t realize I was handing her a ticking landmine. “The sheets were bought with your money, David,” I said flatly. “Use them however you like.” “Thank you, Nora! You’re so sweet,” Rose chirped. “I can’t believe I’m sleeping in David’s house. In his bed!” The implication hung heavy in the air. David looked at me, waiting for a reaction. A test of my boundaries. Rose realized she’d overplayed it and quickly covered her mouth. “Oh! I didn’t mean it like that! Nora, don’t be mad! I’m just a mess, I didn’t mean anything by it.” She made a move to grab her bags, pretending to leave. David stopped her, of course. I just smiled at her. “It’s fine, Rose. Really. Sleep tight. If you like the bed so much, maybe you should just keep it. I’m sure David wouldn’t mind if you stayed permanently.” Rose’s face fell. She couldn’t understand why the “dumb, jealous Nora” from her memories wasn’t showing up. I leaned in, whispering just loud enough for her to hear. “You want him so bad? He’s all yours. I just wonder if he’ll be as charming when you’re the one cleaning his parents’ toilets.” Rose’s eyes widened. She knew then. She definitely knew. 9 I hauled my boxes out to the porch. David ran after me, trying to take the heavy crate from my arms. I pulled away. “Nora, talk to me. Are you mad? I can explain.” Explain what? That he was already cheating emotionally? That he’d already moved his mistress into our home? “Help!” Rose screamed from inside. David didn’t even look back at me. He spun around and ran to her. I hitched the box higher on my shoulder and walked into the night. 10 In my last life, I died at forty-five. The doctor told me my heart gave out because of years of chronic stress and untreated complications from the birth of my son. I’d hemorrhaged during labor—David’s parents refused to pay for a private room or extra care, saying it was a “waste of money” for a woman’s problem. I’d spent my recovery cooking for them while they complained about the salt. I hadn’t slept a full night in twenty years. But tonight, in this new life, I was healthy. My heart was strong. And for the first time in two lifetimes, I slept like the dead.

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