Author: Momo Chan

To take a shortcut, my boyfriend Tommy gunned the engine and steered us into a tunnel not marked on any map. We’d been driving for over thirty minutes now, but there was still no end in sight. My face was pale. I could have sworn the distance between the two mountains was less than half a mile. How could we drive for thirty minutes and still be inside? 1 Tommy was stunned. “I’m pushing seventy-five, Jenna. Even in the city, that would get you across town in no time. I’ve never seen a tunnel this long.” “Maybe there are a lot of turns?” I wondered aloud. “Impossible. I’ve been driving straight the whole time. Haven’t turned the wheel once.” I quickly checked our GPS. The little blue dot on my phone hadn’t moved at all. We had no signal in the tunnel; it was stuck at our position right before we entered. I zoomed in on the map with two fingers. Even though the tunnel itself wasn’t marked, the satellite view showed the distance between the two mountains was clearly just over 700 yards. But we’d been driving for half an hour, and the darkness ahead was still absolute. If Tommy hadn’t said something, I would have thought I was just groggy from a nap. Tommy’s hands were trembling on the steering wheel. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” he said, his voice tight, “but in all this time, we haven’t seen a single other car. It’s just been us.” His words sent a chill down my spine. He was right. “That can’t be right,” I said, trying to rationalize it. “The national park is right up ahead. Even if this tunnel is a bit remote, someone else must have used it.” But one look at Tommy’s panicked expression told me he wasn’t joking. “Should we turn back?” I suggested. Even if there’s no exit ahead, we should at least be able to go back the way we came, right? I tried to reassure myself. Tommy immediately spun the car around. The tunnel was pitch black, our headlights only cutting through about thirty feet of the oppressive darkness. We drove for another hour. Still no sign of the entrance. “This is impossible,” Tommy stammered. “I know we were only driving for about thirty minutes before we turned around. How can this be?” “But we’ve been driving back for almost an hour now!” I cried out. Just then, the car’s AI assistant chimed in. “Battery level critical. Please find a charging station soon.” The battery was about to die. We couldn’t even see a sliver of light, let alone a way out. Beads of sweat rolled down Tommy’s forehead. “Jenna, what do we do? It’s like the entrance… it just vanished!” I was about to try and calm him down when a blinding light appeared in the distance. Headlights. There was someone else in here with us! 2 I told Tommy to pull over immediately. I had him stay in the driver’s seat with the door ajar, ready to floor it if we needed to. I’d get out and see who it was. The car approaching us slowed, its window rolling down just a crack. A pair of wide, anxious eyes appeared in the gap. She looked young. Seeing that I was a woman, she seemed to relax a little and rolled the window down further, though still only a third of the way. “Hey, do you know where the exit is?” she asked, her voice shaky. “I’ve been driving for half an hour and haven’t seen anything. This tunnel is insanely long.” So, another lost soul. My hopes sank. I shook my head. “We’re looking for it, too.” After talking for a bit, I learned her name was Hailey, a recent college grad who had also taken the tunnel as a shortcut. I called Tommy over. When Hailey heard we’d been driving back and forth for nearly an hour and a half, her jaw dropped. “You mean you’ve been driving for almost two hours, in both directions, and you haven’t seen an exit or an entrance?” She looked even more terrified than we were. “Check your phone,” I said, my voice weary. “Do you have a signal?” She fumbled for her phone. The top of her screen showed two crossed-out bars. No signal. “What are we going to do?” she whispered. Just as despair started to set in, I remembered something. “Wait, I read a clickbait article once… it said that in an emergency, you can still call 911 even without a signal.” “Quick, try it!” Hailey urged. I quickly dialed. “We’re sorry, the number you have dialed is not reachable at this time. Please try again later.” How was that possible? Maybe the lines were busy? I told them both to try calling 911 as well. But no matter whose phone we used, or how long we waited between calls, the result was the same robotic voice. “We’re sorry, the number you have dialed is not reachable at this time…” “We’re sorry, the number you have dialed is not reachable at this time…” Hailey threw her phone down in a panic. “That’s impossible! My cousin is a cop. He told me that even if the lines are busy, an emergency call gets rerouted to the nearest available dispatcher. It’s impossible for no one to pick up!” Things were getting stranger and stranger. I instinctively grabbed Tommy’s hand. He pulled me into a hug, whispering softly. “Don’t be scared. I’m here.” Hailey rolled her eyes. “Seriously? Now is not the time for PDA.” I offered her an apologetic smile. “Driving is getting us nowhere,” I suggested. “Why don’t we try walking? See if we can find a side path or something. It’s better than burning through what little power we have left.” I tried to push the weirdness of the phone calls out of my mind. Maybe the signal was just completely dead, and the article was wrong. We turned on our phone flashlights and started walking back the way we’d come. We hadn’t gone more than a few steps when my foot landed on something soft and crinkly. “Hold on, I think I stepped on something.” I pointed my light at the ground. A second later, a wave of pins and needles shot up my leg. Lying on the ground was a crushed soda can. Tommy looked confused. “It’s just a Coke can. What’s wrong?” I swallowed hard, my mouth suddenly dry. “This can… I threw it out of the car.” “But I remember exactly when I threw it out. It was right at the entrance to the tunnel. The moment we drove in.” 3 A bizarre silence hung in the air. Hailey forced a laugh. “Haha… maybe… maybe the wind blew it in here? I mean, it’s pretty light, right?” Tommy was quiet for a moment. “You’re probably just misremembering, Jenna. Let’s focus on finding a way out. Don’t scare yourself.” My mind went blank for a second. Maybe he was right. I get carsick, and I’d been drifting in and out of sleep the whole way. It was possible I was confused. I followed them numbly, but the feeling of wrongness wouldn’t go away. No, I was sure of it. I distinctly remembered tossing that can at the tunnel entrance. I even took a picture of the view. My eyes widened. The picture! I scrambled to open my phone’s photo gallery. And there it was. A picture of the scenery outside the car window, my hand clearly in the frame, dropping the can. It was taken right at the mouth of the tunnel. I was about to show them when Hailey let out a gasp of excitement. “Hey, look! Is that a phone on the wall?” I looked up. Sure enough, mounted on the tunnel wall was a green emergency telephone, the kind you see in every tunnel. Tommy let out a huge sigh of relief. “Thank god. We should be able to get help now.” He hurried me over to the phone. After two rings, someone picked up. It actually worked? Tommy, stumbling over his words, explained that we were trapped. The voice on the other end was calm. “Okay, sir. Please turn on your flashlights and keep them on. Stay where you are.” “Do not, under any circumstances, wander off. Our personnel are on their way.” Hearing this, Hailey’s tense expression finally relaxed. She grabbed the phone. “Well, hurry up! What kind of messed up tunnel is this? We’re completely lost! I’m going to file a complaint when I get out of here!” “Our apologies, ma’am,” the voice replied smoothly. “This tunnel has been decommissioned. We’re sending someone immediately.” After he hung up, both Tommy and Hailey were smiling with relief. Tommy pulled a chocolate bar from his pocket and offered it to me. “Hungry? Have a bite.” Hailey winked at me. “There they go again with the PDA. You’re lucky to have such a great boyfriend, girl.” I managed a weak smile, but my mind was stuck on what the operator had said. A strange, unsettling feeling was creeping back in. Something wasn’t right. But what… “Do you think that guy on the phone could have been lying to us?” I whispered. Tommy looked surprised. “Why would he lie? Stop overthinking. Let’s think about what we’re going to eat when we get out. BBQ or hot pot, what do you think?” Hailey was bouncing around, waving her flashlight. “Yeah, Jenna, don’t worry about it! What would anyone get from lying to us? We don’t have any money.” But I couldn’t shake the feeling of dread. About fifteen minutes later, a man in an orange work uniform appeared in the distance, waving a flashlight. “Sorry about the trouble! This old tunnel has all sorts of problems. Please, follow me.” Behind him was a tow truck. Everything looked so normal. As his light washed over my face, something clicked in my brain. It was like a flash of lightning. I finally realized what was wrong. If the tunnel was decommissioned, why would it have staff? There would be no one working here. “Run!”

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At my son’s hundred-day celebration, I fed him a spoonful of peanut butter. My entire family lunged at me as if I’d lost my mind. My mother-in-law knocked the bowl from my hands, snatched the baby, and shrieked, “You vicious woman! Don’t you know you can’t feed a baby something like that? This is your own son!” My husband shoved me away, his eyes red-rimmed. “I give you my entire salary. I tell you where I am at all times. Isn’t that enough? This is the son you almost died to save! How can you be so cruel as to use him to get at me?” As the baby started to wail, I watched them with cold eyes. “What’s the rush? Isn’t he severely allergic to peanuts?” My mother-in-law’s fury instantly morphed into terror. 1. It wasn’t until the baby’s cries turned his skin a blotchy red and a rash broke out across his tiny body that my mother-in-law finally seemed to relax. She then rushed him to the hospital. The party was over. Our son was immediately taken to the ICU. While we waited, my mother-in-law slapped me across the face. “Willow Kail! You knew he was allergic to peanut butter, and you fed it to him anyway! Are you trying to poison him?” she spat, her teeth clenched. “What kind of mother are you? He’s just a baby! Don’t you know how many children die from anaphylactic shock? This is attempted murder!” My husband, Hamilton, stepped between us, his fists clenched. “Mom, don’t blame Willow,” he said, his voice strained. “She just got out of her postpartum confinement. Postpartum depression is common. It’s my fault. I didn’t make her feel secure enough.” My own mother jabbed a finger at my forehead. “What’s gotten into you since you had the baby? You’re so paranoid. I know Hamilton hurt you in the past, but he’s a changed man. He’s trying to build a life with you. What more do you want? This is your child. How could you hurt him?” My cheek stung, but I remained silent through their barrage of accusations. When the doctor finally came out, I rushed to him. “Doctor, was it an allergic reaction?” He nodded. “Yes, the child had a severe reaction. You parents need to be more careful. A few more minutes and he could have gone into shock.” Ignoring the last part of his sentence, I grabbed his arm. “Have you identified the specific allergen? Was it the peanut butter?” The doctor gave me a strange look. “We won’t know the specific trigger that quickly. Besides, it’s normal for infants to have allergies. You just need to be vigilant.” My heart sank. My mother-in-law shoved me aside. “Are you still fixated on the damn peanut butter?” she screamed. “Willow, are you trying to tear our family apart?” “I have a severe peanut allergy,” I said, my face a cold mask. “It’s genetic. I was just testing to see if he inherited it.” My casual tone sent my in-laws into a rage. They lunged at me, but Hamilton held them back. He looked at me with pained eyes. “Willow, you’re not well. Tomorrow, I’m taking you to see a doctor.” My mother, convinced I was possessed, nodded in agreement. 2. When our son was released from the ICU, he was ravenous, his cries piercing the sterile hospital air. He was a picky baby. He refused all formula, accepting only breast milk. I heard his cries but didn’t move. I had no intention of feeding him. My mother-in-law was frantic. She brought the baby to me, her earlier aggression replaced by a desperate plea. “Willow, I’m not angry with you anymore. Please, just feed him. Look at him, he can barely breathe from crying so hard.” The rash had faded slightly, but his skin was still flushed. My expression flickered. Just as my mother-in-law’s face lit up with hope, a cruel smile touched my lips, and I shoved them both. The baby nearly flew from her arms, but she held on tight, stumbling to the ground. Even my own mother was horrified. “Willow! He’s just a baby! What if he’d gotten hurt? Have you lost your mind? His crying is breaking my heart! Feed him!” “No!” I said. Hamilton’s eyes were red with unshed tears. He dropped to his knees. “Willow, is this because I was looking at Amelia’s photo yesterday? It’s my fault. Blame me. But our son is innocent. He’s so little, and he’s starving. I’m begging you, please feed him. When we get home, I’ll get rid of all of Amelia’s things. I promise.” My mother started hitting my arm. “Amelia has been gone for so long! It’s time to let it go! Why are you so hung up on a dead woman?” Hamilton’s sobs caught in his throat. He let out a bitter laugh. “Yes, Amelia is dead! Willow, you already drove her to her death. I’m begging you, please don’t do the same to our son!” I drove Amelia to her death? A cold, mocking laugh escaped me. I thought back to a year ago. I had just found out I was pregnant. Overjoyed, I cut my business trip short, eager to surprise Hamilton. I walked into our home to find him tangled up on the sofa with his adopted sister, Amelia. My arrival interrupted them. Hamilton looked horrified, trying to stammer out an explanation. Amelia just held him tighter, her eyes full of defiance. I fell apart. I ran home, sobbing. The scandal was huge. The Kails weren’t titans of industry, but they were well-known. The news that the heir was sleeping with his adopted sister would have ruined their reputation. My father-in-law was furious. He sent Amelia abroad that same night. My mother-in-law and Hamilton came to my parents’ house to apologize, transferring two properties into my name as a show of good faith. Hamilton gave me all his savings and swore that things with Amelia hadn’t gone “all the way.” My parents, soft-hearted as ever, forgave him. For the sake of my unborn child, I decided to give him one last chance. A few months later, we heard Amelia had died in a car accident overseas. Hamilton seemed unfazed, merely arranging for her funeral to be handled. I thought it was all behind us. But now, he was blaming her death on me. 3. The commotion had drawn a crowd. Onlookers whispered and pointed, judging the mother who could be so heartless. Someone filmed Hamilton on his knees, begging me, and the video went viral almost instantly. I stood up, my voice firm. “Hamilton, save your performance for someone else. I’m not falling for it again. I told you then, that was your last chance. You blew it. I want a divorce. And I don’t want the child.” Hamilton grabbed my arm, his face a mask of disbelief. “No, I won’t agree to a divorce! What did I do wrong? Is it because I was upset that you fed him peanut butter? I just didn’t want you to hurt him! If he had died, you would have been the one in pain!” “Willow, you have postpartum depression. I’ll help you through this. Please, don’t talk about divorce. Our son needs you. Can’t you hear him crying for his mommy?” “Enough!” I cut him off. “I said, divorce. I’m giving up the child. Do whatever you want with him.” My mother-in-law’s face was contorted with hatred. “Fine, Hamilton, give her the divorce! What kind of mother can listen to her child cry like that and do nothing? If you stay with her, I’m afraid she’ll strangle him in his sleep! She acts like the baby is her mortal enemy!” My mother, heartbroken over her grandson, looked at me with disappointment. “Willow, you need to look forward. Don’t you remember when you were in that car accident right before you gave birth? Hamilton rushed you to the hospital. He never left your side. He took care of you with a devotion that put me to shame. He loves you so much. Don’t do this.” But my mind was made up. I took one last look at the baby, my voice hoarse. “No. I am getting a divorce. Just… just pretend I never had a child.” I walked away, the sound of their curses following me down the hall. I moved into one of the properties they’d given me. The empty living room seemed to echo with the baby’s cries. I covered my ears and finally let myself sob. When I had calmed down, I sent a text message. “Did you find it?” “Yes. It’s almost certain. The results are… not what I expected.” 4. I had been gone for a few days, my phone constantly buzzing with missed calls and messages. Hamilton’s friends and family were either cursing me out or trying to mediate, urging me to go back to him for the sake of the child. Hamilton, in a grand romantic gesture, gathered a crowd and lit thousands of sparklers outside my apartment building, declaring his undying love. I didn’t even go to the window. Someone filmed it, of course. Hamilton’s “devotion” went viral. The hospital video resurfaced, and public opinion turned viciously against me. I was branded a heartless monster, an unfit mother who had nearly killed her own son. My personal information was leaked, and I was inundated with harassing calls. Exhausted and overwhelmed, I finally answered a call from Hamilton. He told me the baby was sick. He begged me to come see him. I agreed. When I arrived at the hospital, a mob was already waiting outside the room. “That’s her? The one who almost killed her own son? She looks normal, but she’s pure evil.” “Why do good men always end up with horrible women?” “That poor baby. His own mother is tormenting him.” I ignored their venomous whispers and walked into the room. The entire Kail clan was there, along with my parents. Hamilton’s secretary and his personal assistant were there, too. The assistant, a man named Mr. Chen, glared at me. “Mrs. Kail, how can you be so cold? Mr. Kail has been running himself ragged between the office and the hospital, taking care of the baby. You’re his mother! How can you be so cruel?” Hamilton did look thinner, his face drawn and exhausted. My mother-in-law sneered, “I thought you were really going to abandon your own son.” “I have,” I said, my eyes downcast. “I just came to see if he was dead yet.” My words shocked everyone into silence. My own parents looked ready to strike me. The mousy secretary, a woman named Ms. Yao, clutched the baby tighter. “Mrs. Kail, you are so ungrateful,” she said, her voice trembling with indignation. “You have a loving husband and a beautiful child. This is the life most women dream of. How can you be so heartless as to wish your own son dead?” Her voice was loud, carrying out into the hallway. The mob surged into the room, pointing and shouting, a few trying to grab my hair. My parents, despite their anger, shielded me, lamenting their failure as parents and demanding I apologize. My defiant silence only fueled their rage. Hamilton gave a broken, weary smile. “Willow, your depression is getting worse. Why else would you say such a terrible thing about your own son?” I laughed, a cold, sharp sound. “Hamilton, stop acting. Is he really the son I nearly died to give birth to?” Hamilton froze. “Of course he is,” he said, his voice strained. “He’s been with me or my mother since the moment he was born. No one could have switched him. If you don’t believe me, we can do a paternity test.” “No need.” I threw a manila envelope onto the table, my gaze sweeping over the room. “I’ve already had one done. Everything in this file will explain why I had to leave my husband and my child.” Hamilton and his mother stared at the envelope, a flicker of panic in their eyes.

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After building a business from scratch with my husband, watching him rise to success, he suddenly brought home a college student and demanded I give her an answer. “The girl’s pregnant, can’t wait. We have so much money now, someone has to inherit it.” I felt like I’d been struck by lightning. As I desperately refused to sign the divorce papers, a line of text abruptly appeared before my eyes: [Fool! The male lead is about to face catastrophic bankruptcy. If you don’t sign, you’ll be stuck with a hundred million in debt and thirty years in jail!] My hand, poised to tear the agreement, froze mid-air. 1 The hovering text continued: [The original wife in the book adamantly refused to divorce, thinking she could drag the scoundrel and his mistress down with her. But in the end, she dragged herself down instead.] [Alas, she didn’t know the male lead’s company was going to implode in just one month. By then, the male lead would secretly block off the truth, transfer assets, and flee with his true love to live happily ever after.] [And the original wife, because she didn’t divorce, perfectly inherited the massive debt and became the male lead’s scapegoat, spending thirty years stitching uniforms in prison.] [Poor original wife, she wouldn’t even divorce in prison. By the time she got out, the male lead’s grandson was in kindergarten, and she was left to die miserably in a dumpster…] […] These revelations jolted me awake. After thirty-two years of life, I realized I was merely a cannon fodder wife in a “feel-good” novel? And the male lead in the book, who rose from poverty to become a billionaire, marrying a sweet young wife and reaching the pinnacle of life, was none other than my husband, Xavier Blackwood. Seeing me frozen, Xavier frowned and urged, “Selina, I know you’ve always been strong-willed, and you’d never tolerate a three-person marriage. Don’t gamble your future away with spite. Just sign the papers, and let’s free each other.” Free each other? My heart seethed with resentment as I looked at Xavier. When I toiled with him for ten years, working day and night to build this business, drinking myself to stomach bleeding for deals, he never said he’d let me go because he feared my hardship. When my career ambitions delayed having children, enduring endless snubs and humiliations from his family, forced to undergo hundreds of IVF injections, he never said he felt for me and would let me go. Now, the company’s listed, the bell has rung, and he’s a billionaire CEO. He casually brings a young girl here, and with a breezy sentence, asks me to let him go. Why should I?! I was full of hate! Full of injustice! But thinking of the fate described in the comments, I couldn’t help but shiver. I couldn’t gamble my entire future. Pushing aside my anger, I smoothed out the divorce agreement in my hand and read it carefully. Xavier, however, had little patience. He sneered, “Don’t bother reading. You’ve been a housewife for three years, what could you possibly understand? After all these years, I won’t mistreat you. Sign the papers, and the house we live in is yours, the car you drive is yours, and the five hundred thousand dollars in your account is also yours. I won’t take a cent, consider it alimony. This way, after the divorce, you’ll be set for life.” 2 [No way! The family company is worth over a billion, and he’s only giving the original wife five hundred thousand?] [Exactly! That house was her parents’ dowry, and that car is ten years old, used by the housekeeper for groceries. The male lead is seriously being too stingy.] [This kind of person can be a male lead? I find him a bit disgusting.] [To the previous commenter, this is just a brainless male-oriented “feel-good” novel. Without the original wife as a stepping stone and cannon fodder, how else would they highlight the male lead’s decisiveness, ruthlessness, and cunning?] [Ruthless men thrive; it’s just a story, as long as it’s enjoyable, why moralize?] [Right? Who wants to keep a ‘haggard’ wife around after achieving success? Of course, he’d marry a young, charming wife. The male lead will even have more mistresses overseas later. If you don’t like it, just scroll past~] The comments section was in an uproar, and my heart grew colder, clearer. I no longer needed to verify if the comments were true or false. Xavier’s calculations, laid bare before me, were enough to explain everything. I picked up the pen from the table. Under two expectant gazes, I twirled it twice, then stopped, and spoke calmly: “I won’t sign. I don’t agree to the divorce.” At my words, Xavier and Ava White beside him instantly looked grim. The comments became even more frantic: [I told you, this original wife’s love-struck brain is beyond saving.] [She won’t divorce even after all this; I wasted my sympathy on her. She deserves to die miserably on the streets.] [This kind of clingy woman is the worst. If I were the male lead, I’d prefer the gentle and resilient little white flower like the female lead.] Xavier pondered for a moment, then spoke in a hoarse voice: “Selina, I know you still have feelings for me. But Ava is already pregnant; you have to take responsibility for the child, don’t you?” I found it laughable. I didn’t get her pregnant, why should I take responsibility? But before I could speak, Ava tugged at his sleeve, whimpering, “Xavier, I told you Selina wouldn’t let go easily. Even after you’ve given her so much, she’s still not satisfied.” Clutching Xavier’s hand, her eyes filled with heartache, she continued, “But… she’s just a housewife, enjoying life at home every day. She wouldn’t still want to shamelessly demand a share of the company, would she? Xavier, you know I don’t care about money. I just can’t help but feel for you… that’s your life’s work. She didn’t lift a finger, why should she get a share just by saying so?” With that, tears genuinely streamed down her face. It seemed that when it came to money, her emotions were quite real. But she was wrong. I, Selina, was never just a simple housewife. This company, from the day it was registered. Every single business segment was developed by Xavier and me from scratch. Before I left the workforce three years ago, my prestige within the company and my reputation in the industry were far greater than Xavier’s. In fact, if my mother-in-law hadn’t blackmailed me with threats of suicide, insisting I return home to focus on pregnancy, the company’s IPO wouldn’t have been delayed by two full years. But even during these three years at home. Whenever the company faced difficulties or crucial decisions, Xavier would still come to me to discuss solutions. Ava might not know this, but I refuse to believe Xavier was clueless. Ultimately, he simply felt that with the company listed, he finally dared to burn bridges. I scoffed, interrupting the two parasites still doting on each other. “Madam.” “First, don’t call me ‘Selina sis’. I don’t have a mistress for a sister.” “Second, you keep calling me a housewife with no contribution. May I ask what your profession is? And how much effort have you put into Blackwood Group?” “Don’t tell me your contribution is… keeping the chairman happy in bed? Well, that would indeed be a significant effort.” 3 My words instantly made Ava’s face flush, and she almost lost her balance. Xavier quickly steadied her, his expression grim. He shouted at me, “Selina, why are your thoughts so filthy now? Staying home too long has turned you into a shrew. Can you at least maintain some dignity? Ava is still a student, she’s sensitive and has strong self-esteem. Besides, she’s been interning at Blackwood for six months and has contributed quite a lot to the company.” Hearing him, I couldn’t help but laugh out loud: “Sensitive, so she seduces a married man to be his mistress at such a young age? Strong self-esteem, so she dares to get pregnant out of wedlock and force her way in?” Ava’s face had turned from red to pale, and her tears flowed even more profusely. “Why is Selina sis being so hurtful? Xavier and I are truly in love, it’s not as sordid as you make it sound! You were just lucky to meet Xavier ten years before me… You, a woman who revolves around men and the kitchen all day, simply don’t understand the storms and struggles Xavier and I went through to bravely defy worldly opinions and be together!” Xavier was deeply moved and immediately chimed in, “Selina, Ava is pure and innocent, not like those loose, materialistic women who try to climb the ladder. She’s a poor student I sponsored, and it wasn’t easy for her to make it out of the mountains. She interned at Blackwood to repay that kindness, not even asking for a penny in salary. Our relationship is clean and pure, untouched by worldly filth, not disgusting as you imagine!” Honestly. I was utterly stunned by their shamelessness. She’s pure and innocent. But after six months of internship, she’s five months pregnant. She didn’t ask for a penny in salary. But she’s wearing Chanel and carrying a limited edition Hermès bag. What a pristine, peerless snow lotus! The comments were no less scathing than my thoughts: [Holy crap, I’ve never seen anyone describe marital infidelity so fresh and pure before.] [I used to think the female lead was about mutual salvation between a sponsor and a poor student. Now, what is this garbage?] [You women don’t understand, men inherently have a hero complex for saving damsels in distress. He’s just following his true heart, valuing love above all else. Besides, he gave the original wife a car, house, and money, what more could she want?] [The previous commenter is beyond evaluation… Nothing more to say except, I wish them a happy ever after, like two peas in a pod.] I took a deep breath, closing my eyes, unwilling to look any further. Seeing my prolonged hesitation, Xavier completely lost patience. He said coldly, “Selina, to be frank, even if we don’t divorce, I’ll never touch you again. Clinging on is pointless. Just tell me, what will it take for you to agree to divorce?” I opened my eyes and looked at him mockingly: “Fine, since you two are so innocent. Whether the child in her belly appeared by telepathy or was placed there by an ancestral dream, I don’t care. If you want me to agree to divorce, the agreement must be redrafted by my lawyer. Otherwise, no deal!” 4 After saying all that. I opened the front door and showed them both out. Initially, I was furious, hateful, and unwilling to simply let them off easy. But now, I was completely clear-headed. This man, who was less than useless, wasn’t worth wasting my precious life on. After they left, I immediately asked my best friend to contact a renowned divorce lawyer. While waiting for the lawyer to arrive, I pulled out my notebook and repeatedly reviewed the company’s recent performance. I wanted to unravel the mystery puzzling me. Why would Blackwood Group, a company that had always developed steadily and had just gone public, face a sudden, catastrophic implosion? Just as I was drawing a blank, the comments reappeared: [The original wife shouldn’t bother with company accounts. That rotten company is a hot potato; whoever takes it on will regret it.] [Blackwood has been ruined by Xavier for three years. He secretly brought in all those relatives without the original wife knowing, and not one of them is any good. Colluding internally and externally, they’ve been siphoning off money like crazy. Blackwood is now hollowed out, merely a shell, and even the IPO was based on false accounts! Xavier himself doesn’t even realize it!] [Luckily, Xavier, in his attempt to sideline the original wife, quietly changed the legal representative to himself a year before the IPO. He even tricked the original wife into transferring her shares for him to hold in trust. As long as they divorce, she won’t be implicated at all.] So that’s how it was. After reading all this, my hatred for that scoundrel Xavier intensified a hundredfold. But a heavy burden was also lifted, at least partially. Thankfully, his machinations had inadvertently allowed me to escape disaster. A top-tier legal team came with top-tier fees, but it was well worth it. In just one afternoon and evening, the team, following my instructions, drafted a divorce plan most advantageous to me. The next morning. I placed the re-drafted divorce agreement, already signed, before Xavier. Ava picked up the agreement first. After just a few lines, she exclaimed, “Xavier, Selina sis is demanding all the villas, commercial properties, and cars under your name, plus a hundred million dollars in cash? She’s an old woman who can’t even lay an egg, how dare she ask for so much!” 5 Ava, overcome with anger, clutched her chest, gasping for air. Xavier, hearing this, was also furious. He looked at me mockingly and scoffed, “Selina, I never thought you were so greedy and materialistic. You used to always say you loved me for who I am, but it turns out it was just a pretense of purity; in the end, it’s all about money.” I didn’t hold back, retorting instantly: “You also always said you’d only love me for life, but didn’t you turn around and blow that off like a fart? If you two aren’t materialistic, then don’t fight me over it.” Stung, Xavier was left speechless with anger. Ava quickly helped him calm down. Then, she stared at me intently, saying, “Xavier, is Selina sis making these unreasonable demands because she doesn’t want to divorce you at all? It makes sense; women her age find it hard to remarry after divorce, and she’s just an idle housewife. Of course, she wouldn’t want to give up a top bachelor like you. But Selina sis, emotions can’t be forced. If you truly loved him, you’d know to let go, not drag Xavier through this agony with you…” I wasn’t angry at all; instead, I smiled, playing along with her words: “Yes, I don’t want to let go, I won’t give up, so you might as well abandon hope. If I don’t agree, your illegitimate child will forever be an outcast, and you will forever be a despised mistress!” Ava almost fainted from anger, collapsing into Xavier’s arms and wailing, “Xavier, she admitted it! She just wants money! You can’t let her get away with it so easily; why should she get so much just by opening her mouth? You’ll be left with nothing!” Xavier’s face was extremely grim. It seemed he felt the same as Ava, completely unwilling to sign the agreement. “Fine,” I said with a slight smile, nodding. I snatched the divorce papers, tore them in half, and tossed them into the air. “Since you think I’m getting a raw deal, then I won’t divorce.” Perhaps not expecting my sudden change of attitude. Xavier and Ava’s faces paled. They exchanged glances, looking even more anxious than before. “Selina, can’t we discuss this calmly? Why are you rushing?” I ignored him, continuing to smile: “I’m not rushing. Anyway, I don’t want a divorce, so if we can’t agree, then we won’t divorce. Actually, I think dragging it out is more satisfying. After your love child is born, I’ll go to Blackwood Group, to Ms. Ava’s school, and to Ms. Ava’s hometown village. I’ll put up posters, hang banners, and bring a row of influencers to live-stream your celebration. Let everyone see that the Blackwood family has an heir, and it’s from the pure and innocent Ms. Ava, conceived through telepathy!~” My words made even the surrounding lawyers chuckle. Ava was so mortified she couldn’t even lift her head. Xavier, finally provoked, couldn’t listen anymore. He suddenly roared, “Sign! I’ll sign!” With that, he snatched the divorce agreement from the lawyer’s hand and started flipping through it. He read faster and faster, his hand trembling more and more. He looked as if he might explode from rage on the spot. But I didn’t miss it: after reading all the property division clauses, the corners of his mouth twitched into an uncontrolled, slight smirk. Others might not know. But I knew he had fallen into my trap. 6 Xavier, having climbed the corporate ladder for so many years, quickly regained his composure. He hastily scanned the agreement, sighed, and in a negotiating tone, said to me, “Selina, we’ve been married for years. If you want everything of mine, I’ll give it. But this amount is too much; I can’t produce it from my account right away. Could we…” “No,” I interrupted before he could finish. “Not a single cent less, cash upfront, or no deal.” Xavier glanced at his lawyer, then frowned and explained to me, “The company recently invested in a large project, so cash flow is tight. My personal account doesn’t have much either, only a few tens of thousands, as you know. How about we sign the divorce first, and I’ll gradually raise the funds later?” [Original wife, don’t believe him. When the company collapses, he won’t just fail to pay up; he’ll even make you take the fall.] [He’s been guarding against you for a long time. That’s why he pays himself a salary of a hundred dollars a year, and all the actual money he earns is transferred to his mother’s account.] I scoffed coldly: “Xavier, don’t treat me like an idiot. With Blackwood Group’s market value, you know very well that what I’m asking for isn’t much. In fact, you could say I’m being very generous. I don’t want shares, only cash, simply because I want no further ties with you all. A hundred million to buy all my shares is a great deal for you. Blackwood just went public; if I were to fight you for company control now, the impact on the stock price would be far more than this.” Xavier fell silent. He had actually wavered just now. My original shares, if traded on the market, would definitely be worth more than a hundred million. So, when he saw the clause stating I wanted cash instead of company shares, he relaxed. This was also the trap I set for him. If I held onto those shares, they would become worthless paper and a death warrant when the company exploded next month. And if I demanded too much, Xavier would be reluctant to pay and would delay. A hundred million was my prediction for his psychological breaking point. This amount of cash flow was indeed substantial for him, but it wasn’t impossible to scrape together. Ava, seeing him waver, grew anxious and angry, repeatedly tugging at him, signaling disapproval. But I, too, had lost patience and rose to leave. “Since you’re not in a hurry to divorce, then let’s just leave it. I’m not in a hurry either. Oh, by the way, Xavier, I officially inform you that starting tomorrow, I will return to work at the company…” Having said that, I was already at the door, about to turn the doorknob, when a voice, gritted through teeth, suddenly came from behind me. “Fine, I agree.”

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My best friend was pushed into a zombie horde and turned into one. The panicked group who did it tried to flee, but I blocked their path. They were furious: “If you want to save her, save her yourself. Do you even understand that ‘holy mothers’ die first in the apocalypse?” I replied: “I won’t save her, but you can’t leave.” “Why?” I smiled, raising my cleaver. “If you leave, what will my best friend eat?” 1 On the third day of the zombie outbreak, Serena and I, Evelyn, dodged one zombie wave after another. We finally stumbled upon a small group of survivors while fleeing. They were quite happy to take us in. But Evelyn’s face was etched with worry. “Peyton, can ordinary people like us really survive in this apocalypse?” I didn’t know either. Just days ago, we were joyfully traveling, discussing future plans. In a blink, the world had changed. Three months later, a zombie horde erupted. We were forced to hide in one spot, and the team’s supplies dwindled. Olivia, the only other woman in the team besides us, suggested, “Evelyn, why don’t the two of us go to the supermarket ahead to find supplies?” Evelyn hesitated, “Just two of us? Won’t that be too unsafe?” Olivia’s face showed resentment. “If you and Peyton hadn’t joined, our supplies wouldn’t be so tight. Now you’re unwilling to even help out a little? You’re utterly ungrateful.” I retorted, “Don’t you remember how many zombies I’ve killed for you on this journey?” “Enough!” The captain interjected, his expression also somewhat displeased. “We’re a team. If we go, we go together. No solo missions.” Evelyn also shook her head at me. I could only swallow my anger. Once we secured supplies, I planned to take Evelyn and run. These past few days, I’d come to understand something clearly. Five people in the team, and four were Olivia’s protectors. We’d be begrudged for half a day if we took a few survival crackers, while Olivia always got the freshest food and showered daily. Whether fighting zombies or fleeing, she never had to lift a finger; someone was always there to serve her. Like this time, no one in the team refuted Olivia’s words, but when I spoke, the captain stepped in as a mediator. Such a team, we were better off without. 2 The supermarket had been ransacked, leaving only useless items and clothes. Deeper inside, we could even hear slow shuffling footsteps. I held Evelyn’s hand, ready to slip away unnoticed, when Olivia suddenly shrieked. It was then we realized she had run ahead, deep inside, to grab some clothes, separating from the team. And right in front of her, a zombie was staring intently. Olivia’s face went white with fear, and she cried, begging us to save her. The four protectors should have rushed forward immediately, but additional zombies appearing behind them made them stop. Olivia ran desperately towards us. I didn’t even want to look, pulling Evelyn, intent on fleeing. Suddenly, Evelyn let go of my hand. I frowned deeply: “Are you going to save her?” Evelyn smiled. “I’ll be fine, I’m very fast. I can pull her away.” I wanted to say more but held my tongue, letting her go. That’s just how Evelyn was. No matter how much we cursed people behind their backs. If she saw someone in trouble, she would still lend a hand. I hated that about her. She ran over, grabbed Olivia, with the zombies hot on her heels. Just as Olivia was about to be bitten on the arm, she shut her eyes, screamed, “I’m sorry!” Then, she turned and pushed Evelyn into their path. “Evelyn!!!” 3 After escaping the supermarket and hiding. Olivia’s crying was irritating. She profusely apologized: “I’m so sorry… I really didn’t mean it, she tripped my foot, and I accidentally pushed her…” The captain hugged her, gently comforting her. “It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s not your fault. She just couldn’t get away, you can’t blame yourself.” Another person chimed in, “Exactly, she didn’t contribute much to the team anyway. It’s her good fortune to help you survive; don’t blame yourself.” She wiped away her crocodile tears, tilted her head, and looked at me. “Peyton, you won’t blame me, will you?” My expression was calm. “Was she bitten?” “P-probably… I didn’t dare look. Let’s go quickly, what if those zombies chase us?” I mused, “I heard that people bitten by zombies turn into zombies too.” The captain, sensing something off in my tone, a flicker of suspicion in his eyes. “Do you want to go in and save her?” I shook my head decisively: “No.” They sighed in relief, lifting their legs to leave, but I stepped forward, blocking their path. “If I don’t save her, you can just leave?” “What else?” A team member was impatient. “Don’t be crazy. If you want to be a saint, be one yourself. Don’t say we didn’t warn you; even if she dies in there, it has nothing to do with us, got it?” I smiled. My voice was harsh and unpleasant. “You still can’t leave.” The captain’s eyes grew colder and colder. “Why?” “Because…” I pulled out the cleaver that had butchered countless zombies. “If you leave, what will my best friend eat?” 4 Outside the supermarket, there were chairs for people to rest. I carefully wiped the blood from my knife with a piece of cloth. I was waiting. They said it only takes five minutes for a person to turn into a zombie. As long as she turned, I believed she would walk out to see me herself. If she was eaten by the zombies. Well, there was nothing to be done. I waited for a long time, until the sun set, and several restless presences stirred around. Evelyn, don’t disappoint me. In a moment of distraction, I thought of my first meeting with Evelyn. When she first arrived at the orphanage, she often stood up for others, enduring many punishments as a result. The director, chatting with someone, mentioned her parents died in a car accident, and relatives didn’t want her, so they left her at the orphanage. But she never gave up, remaining optimistic about life. I instinctively avoided such people. Until, I was grabbed by the hair by the orphanage bully. He dragged me across the floor. I screamed frantically, but no one paid attention. The teachers were busy with their own amusement, not even sparing me a glance. Then, Evelyn suddenly appeared, smashing a brick into the back of the bully’s head. “If you dare bully anyone again, I’ll beat you every time I see you!” You see, that’s just how she was—too kind. She had to save everyone. I wiped away my tears, ready to go in and collect her body. If I couldn’t, then we’d die together. The next second, a zombie, swaying unsteadily, walked out of the supermarket. A trail of zombies followed behind. I slowly gave a thumbs up. “Evelyn, you’re a legend.” 5 I used needle and thread to stitch up her mangled body, but she remained blank-faced and speechless. After a long probing, I finally took out Olivia’s body and offered it to her. Without a second thought, she tore into it ravenously. Excellent, still eating. This girl has vigor. After she finished gnawing, I air-dried and chopped the bodies of the rest of the team, then packed my bag and led her south. The captain had mentioned a newly established base in the south. There would definitely be a lot of people there. I wrapped her in long sleeves and a long cloak; as long as her face was covered, no one would know she was a zombie. After two days of walking, I was so hungry I collapsed on the ground, drained. Evelyn stood there, pondering for a long time, then ran out and caught three zombies. I: “…What are you catching these for?” Evelyn skillfully pulled out a piece of air-dried meat from my bag and began to chew, watching me as she ate. Oh, I get it. I: “You want me to eat zombies?” Evelyn nodded. I: “I’ll die if I don’t eat?” Evelyn nodded again. I: “Then I’d rather die.” “?” 6 I was very lucky to encounter someone else heading south. She pulled out her last bottle of water and poured it down my throat. In the apocalypse, the one thing you couldn’t trust was human nature. Would anyone truly endure hardship themselves just to save another? My gaze shifted to Evelyn. Well, except for her. I spoke in a hoarse voice: “I drank your water, what about you?” The girl smiled. She raised her hand, and the empty water bottle suddenly refilled. “It’s fine; I have water abilities. There’s more after I drink it.” I questioned, “Abilities?” “You don’t know?” The girl looked surprised. “After the zombie outbreak, some people who were bitten by zombies, as long as they didn’t turn, gained special abilities.” I shook my head: “I haven’t been bitten by a zombie.” The girl realized: “That explains it. It’s okay, I have abilities. By the way, are you two heading to Hope Base?” I considered my words carefully: “Yes.” “That’s great, let’s go together. My name is Quinn, what’s yours?” I pointed at Evelyn: “Peyton Lee, and her name is…” Quinn smiled, looking at Evelyn, who was behind me, with disheveled hair and her face covered. “I know her name.” I instantly grew wary, secretly gripping the knife hidden in my bag. “What’s her name?” Quinn: “I guess her name is Sadako.” “…?” 7 Quinn was a very talkative person. After knowing her for just one day, I knew all about which boy she had a crush on in middle school. But people without cunning rarely survive in the apocalypse. That day, Quinn suddenly asked me curiously, “Why does your friend eat meat every day, while you only drink my water?” I calmly took a sip of water. “She’s a picky eater; she only eats meat and doesn’t drink water.” Quinn expressed understanding: “But I don’t think I’ve ever heard her speak.” “She’s been mute since childhood.” Quinn’s expression was pitiful: “That’s quite sad. Luckily, you’re with her.” After walking for an unknown period, we stumbled upon another group of people. Quinn’s expression grew very excited when she saw them. She grabbed my hand and shook it frantically: “I saw my crush!” I was a little dizzy from being shaken: “The one you liked since middle school?” “Yes!” Quinn went to negotiate, and Evelyn and I also gained permission to join them. Honestly, I didn’t like dealing with people. Meeting people like Olivia and her group was truly troublesome. But looking at Quinn’s smile, I was reminded of Evelyn in the past. I unconsciously poked her. “I think Quinn is very much like you.” “W-where is she like me?” “Like you, foolishly lucky.” Wait. My mind went blank. I slowly turned my head to look at Evelyn. “Just now, were you talking?” 8 Evelyn still had her zombie face, her mouth opening and closing. “No, it, wasn’t, me.” I: “?” I suddenly felt a sting in my eyes. “Evelyn, what’s wrong with you? I just told them you were mute, and now you’re talking? That’s just causing trouble!” “Oh.” “…” Quinn ran off to reconnect with her crush, leaving me ample time to figure out why Evelyn could talk. For this, I specifically went out and caught two zombies. They saw the air-dried meat in my hand but showed no great desire to eat it; instead, they repeatedly opened their mouths, trying to bite me. It was then I realized that ordinary zombies were only affected by fresh, living flesh. Since it was useless, I raised my knife, preparing to dispatch the zombies, but Evelyn reached out and blocked me. I: “What are you doing?” Evelyn shook her head: “Don’t, kill.” Looking at her grey eyes, I belatedly remembered. She was also a zombie. If I killed zombies, it must be unsettling for her as one of them. I: “Since you care about them, then I’ll let…” Evelyn shook her head again: “Don’t, eat, raw. Kill, cook, them.” “…” What kind of clunky language system was this? 9 Quinn’s crush was named Liam, a decisive and no-nonsense guy who was particularly serious when managing the team. He was especially kind to Quinn alone. Clearly, a mutual affection. Thanks to Quinn’s instructions, not many people came to bother us. However, at every meal, I would receive their offerings. This made me feel very warm. Evelyn maintained her mute persona, only speaking a few words when no one was around, usually just quietly walking at the back of the group, gnawing on zombie meat. The more zombie meat she ate, the more she could string together a complete sentence. “Are my enemies dead yet?” I thought for a moment: “Probably not. After all, bad apples last forever.” Evelyn: “Then let me go bite them to death.” “…” After becoming a zombie, Evelyn seemed to revert to her orphanage days, fearless and bold. She would often sneak away from the team for a “buffet.” As we neared Hope Base, Evelyn completely disappeared. Quinn initially worried, asking if I wanted to go look for her. I waved my hand: “Don’t worry about it; she probably died out there.” “…?” She wanted to say more but ultimately said nothing. Upon entering Hope Base, identification and ability registration were required. Having nothing, I automatically entered the civilian zone. Liam was originally from Hope Base, and his current expedition was to recruit ability users for the base. He naturally arranged Quinn’s placement, and thus, we parted ways. Because in the apocalypse, ability users and ordinary people were no longer considered to be in the same social class. I settled down in the civilian zone, found a job sweeping streets, sweeping floors and doing logistics every day, living a full and satisfying life. Occasionally, someone would toss me things from outside the base. Sometimes it was mutated chickens. Sometimes it was unknown flowers and plants. These items would have cloth strips tied to them, with a few crooked words written on them. [Bestie, the zombie said, eating these makes you talk.] I replied: “Is there a possibility that I could always talk?” […] [Oh.]

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Just after I posted travel photos with my boyfriend on social media, a “relationship expert” messaged me. “Sweetie, your boyfriend doesn’t look like a quiet type. Send me his WhatsApp; I’ll give you a free relationship assessment, how about it?” “Are professional homewreckers this brazen these days?” After I refused, she immediately posted our private messages online, crying victim. A flood of netizens messaged me, hurling insults. I softened, publicly apologized to her, and stated I just wanted a peaceful life. But she and the netizens decided I was guilty and insisted on helping with the “assessment.” Days later, the expert triumphantly posted a screenshot of her successfully adding my boyfriend on WhatsApp, captioning it: “Easily handled; your boyfriend isn’t well-behaved~” But looking at her, I felt only pity. 1. The relationship expert’s new post hit ten thousand likes within an hour. I looked at the two screenshots in the post: the first was a friend request, with just nine words, “Hey handsome, I’m the person in the picture, add me~”. The second was a WhatsApp chat interface, with the expert’s contact name “Relationship Expert 12,” no username visible. But the profile picture opposite was mine—a photo taken a few days ago during our trip, where I was smiling radiantly. The comment section had exploded, with a flood of netizens rushing to mock me. “@her out to see! What does your man look like in someone else’s chat box? Look familiar?” “Where’s that clown now? No wonder she cursed even for a free assessment; turns out her dearest boyfriend, whom she’d been hiding, was cheap goods.” “Some people shouldn’t hide; come out and apologize to everyone.” As the netizens wished, I was @-mentioned in the top comment, followed by a mischievous emoji from the expert. Watching the online comments grow increasingly unbearable, I couldn’t help but post a response: “Thank you, netizens, for your concern about my relationship. However, my boyfriend and I have known each other since high school and have weathered many storms. I know the kind of person he is and I have confidence in our relationship. If our relationship truly breaks down in the future, I will not hesitate to break up, but before that, I do not wish to put him through any ‘character tests,’ nor do I want anyone to intervene in our relationship.” Seeing many netizens agree, I breathed a sigh of relief, praying that everyone would disperse. But the expert immediately jumped in, wailing: “Sweetie, I don’t want to ruin your relationship, I just want to help you test him because I’m afraid girls might encounter bad men.” The moment she spoke, her loyal followers poured in, and the tide of public opinion instantly shifted. They became convinced that I was just reluctant to leave a scumbag, and they started mimicking my words, posting various sarcastic parodies, attaching my post below, gleefully calling it “reference material.” Even the comments that wished us “99” (forever love) were replaced. I looked at the stinging words, my chest tightening, and finally just turned off my phone. That evening, I returned home after a day’s work. As I walked in, I saw Adam leaning on the sofa, looking at his phone, a faint smile on his handsome face. Hearing me, he instinctively flinched, flipping his phone screen down. He said dryly, “Zoe, you’re home early today?” “Yeah, were you chatting with someone?” “A buddy.” My heart sank. He was lying; Adam always blinked when he lied. I reassured myself that we were adults, everyone had their private matters. I pretended not to know, complaining to him about work as usual. Adam listened quietly, as always, but his eyes kept darting to his phone. After talking for a long time, he didn’t respond once. For some reason, I felt a surge of weariness. Remembering the day’s turmoil, I couldn’t help but probe, “Adam, did anyone strange add you today?” He smiled faintly, “No, why?” But my heart sank further because of his words. I instinctively clutched the hem of my clothes, quickly shaking off those strange thoughts. Adam and I had been through so much over the years; there were always others around – schoolgirls who had crushes on him, colleagues who liked him – but he had rejected them all. How could he now let someone who suddenly appeared online ruin our relationship? Besides, I knew what kind of person Adam was. Thinking this, I breathed a sigh of relief and went to my room to rest. However, when I opened my phone’s social media, I saw the relationship expert had just posted a new update. “My poor sweetie, my heart aches for you.” 2. I was involuntarily drawn to her cover image: a screenshot of her chat history with Adam. At first, she awkwardly tried various topics, but once she discovered Adam loved gaming, the two immediately clicked. He even took her on a duo-queue, and afterward, kept marveling at how skilled she was as a girl, much better than his girlfriend who couldn’t play games. My grip on the phone tightened. Indeed, Adam was very good at games. In contrast, I was terrible. Every time we duo-queued, I only dragged him down, and he would save me while assuring me it was okay. Realizing I was just a hindrance, over time, I stopped playing with him. Netizens quickly flooded the comments below. “My God, is she seriously not breaking up with him?” followed by frantic @-mentions of me. “She’s such a doting wife, what can she break up with? She’s destined to eat scraps for life.” “Hard work for the blogger, how can you even chat with such a disgusting man?” The relationship expert gently replied: “Sweetie, it’s not hard work. Mainly, I want to help sisters see men clearly.” The netizens were in an uproar, rushing to hug her: “The blogger is too kind, too bad the doting wife doesn’t appreciate it.” “It’s okay, some girls are smarter, some are a bit slower. We need to be patient. I’ll keep working hard to make her realize.” Below was a cute heart-hand emoji. Netizens were moved by her warm words, praising her extensively, and her followers surged overnight. I also clicked on her avatar to her profile, which was filled with posts exposing other people’s boyfriends. Each post’s main image had “Identified as Scum” in large characters, followed by a chorus of praise in the comments, and even people thanking her. So, was it my turn now? Just then, the door opened. I looked at Adam walking into the room, my expression darkening. I asked again, “Adam, I can trust you, right?” Adam tilted his head, seemingly confused, then smiled, walked over, and pulled me into his embrace, nuzzling his forehead against mine: “Of course.” “Okay, I trust you.” I put down my phone, turned off the lights, and went to rest. After that, I didn’t go online again, and Adam showed no unusual behavior. I thought that in a few days, once a new scandal appeared, they would simply move on. But a few days later, while resting after meeting a client, I saw Adam’s back in a nearby pedestrian street. He stood tall, in a black jacket, striking in the crowd. Equally striking was the beautiful woman beside him, in a black fitted dress, smiling as she held his hand—it was the online relationship expert. I clutched my handbag, quickened my pace. Just as I was about to reach them, the expert loosened her grip, running off as if to avoid suspicion. Leaving Adam to turn around, looking surprised and flustered at me: “Zoe, what are you doing here?” My gaze swept over him, then to the person who had run off, my tone cold: “Who was that person?” He avoided my gaze, saying, “A salesperson, insisting on pitching products to me.” “Then what are you doing here?” Adam was the owner of a large club, usually at his store. Today, he had come all the way out here. He smiled: “I heard you were here for a business meeting, and I planned to pick you up for dinner after you finished.” He even pulled out his phone to show me, a reservation at a couples’ restaurant. Although I didn’t like the overly flashy decor, thinking of his good intentions, I readily agreed. The food was quite palatable. After eating, I was in a good mood and idly played with my phone, wanting to see if the online fuss had died down. No sooner had I opened it than I saw the expert’s new post: “Sweetie, you ate my dinner.” The picture showed me happily chatting with Adam as I ate. Adam happened to be looking down, not at me, his back seeming somewhat lonely and distracted at that moment. I instantly looked towards where the photo was taken, but the spot was already empty. My good mood vanished. Annoyance swelled within me. I accidentally glanced at the sarcastic comments in the comment section, and a lump formed in my throat, impossible to swallow. Just then, the expert messaged me, her tone still full of feigned sympathy: “Sweetie, I’m sure you’ve seen it. That scumbag probably still told you I was a salesperson, right?” A surge of nameless anger churned in my chest, and my tone grew irritable: “Let me remind you again, I don’t need your so-called assessment. Please stay away from me and my boyfriend!” The expert remained calm and collected: “Every woman reacts like this when facing reality. But it’s okay; I believe you’ll come to thank me soon enough.” “Enough. One last thing: deliberately interfering in other people’s relationships, no matter the reason, is being a homewrecker.” She sighed helplessly: “Alright, I’ll help you assess him a bit longer.” 3. After she said that, she disappeared. I was so annoyed I wanted to throw my phone. Looking up, I saw Adam, who had just received a message from someone, saying, “Zoe, I might be busy for a while. I’m heading out.” With that, he left in a hurry. I watched him get into his car downstairs. A woman, whose face was hidden by Adam’s body, got into the passenger seat. She was also wearing a fitted black dress. I sat in my original spot for a long time before remembering to go back to the office. When I returned, I saw the proposal that was due that afternoon still spread out on the table, unfinished. “What’s going on with this proposal? I assigned it this morning; it’s still not done?” I slammed the document on the table. Several subordinates bowed their heads, saying nothing. In the corner, a new intern was scrolling on her phone and chuckled. “What are you laughing at?” She looked up and turned her phone to show me. The screen displayed the relationship expert’s newly posted update. The post was gaining momentum, and everyone around had seen it. “Manager Miranda, your own face has been utterly shredded by others, and you still come here to scold us?” The few people next to her showed no sign of injustice; their eyes gleamed with barely contained amusement. Just then, the door pushed open, and the boss walked in. Seeing the messy scene inside and the untouched proposal, he started yelling at me too. I lowered my head, accepting the reprimand, not daring to utter a word. The intern behind me was still secretly taking photos, giggling. Finally, after the scolding, the boss pointed at me and roared, “Zoe Miranda, I’m warning you, your messy affairs have seriously damaged the company’s image. If you don’t clean it up within a week, you’re fired!” He slammed the door shut. I began to reassign tasks. The subordinates, distracted, listened, then returned to their workstations. But during a break, I discovered they had already posted photos of me being scolded online, gathering in groups to mock me below. When I finished work that evening, I dragged my tired body home, only to find the house plunged into darkness. When I finished work that evening, I dragged my tired body home. I opened the door, and the room was completely dark. I switched on the light and saw a note pressed under a teacup on the coffee table. “Zoe, I’m out on urgent business. Take good care of yourself. I’ll bring you a gift when I return.” I pulled out my phone and called him, but it kept showing “temporarily unavailable.” WhatsApp messages went unread. I sat on the sofa for a while, instinctively opening social media. Sure enough, the relationship expert’s homepage featured a new pinned post. “Invited by a certain gentleman for a few days’ travel, I will live-stream the assessment results to all my sisters then.” Above was her selfie and a plane ticket. Below, netizens went wild upon hearing about the live stream, and even after seeing that payment was required, a crowd still expressed willingness to pay to watch the drama unfold. A group of people stormed my account, asking if I was breaking up. I reaffirmed my stance and sternly told the expert, “I know what kind of person my boyfriend is. I hope you stop bothering us; this is for your own good.” But this time, unlike the usual mockery, many people started sympathizing with me, digging up all my posts and comments to analyze my psychological state. Some said I was love-starved since childhood, which was why I was so desperate for male attention, urging everyone to cherish their daughters. Others said I was just stubborn, putting on a brave face, too proud to admit defeat. I couldn’t be bothered to argue with them, so I exited the app. Just then, I received a friend request from a stranger. As soon as I accepted, she immediately sent me a photo of Adam and a location. “He’s here.”

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Ten years ago, in the Great Explosion, my father sacrificed himself in the blaze, saving the entire city. Citizens forged a golden medal for him and voluntarily donated money to support my education. But my mother immediately used all of it for plastic surgery, marrying the richest man and becoming a high-society wife. To curry favor with my stepbrother, she even poured the remaining money into his gaming account. And I became the lowest servant in the household, part of her dowry, allowing myself to be beaten, cursed, and bullied with my mother’s tacit approval. In my senior year of high school, my stepbrother intentionally set fire to the school, causing the immediate death of twenty-three students who had already secured early university admissions. To protect him, my stepfather forced me to take the blame. He threw the confession at my face, disdainfully saying: “Little bastard, I’ve raised you for years; it’s time to collect some interest. The Blackwood family’s food isn’t free. You have no choice. Even if you don’t sign, I have plenty of ways to dump all the blame on you.” I bit my lip fiercely, looking at my mother, who had just returned from a cosmetic procedure. She hid her new alligator-skin bag, timidly saying. “Your father is right. Everyone else is dead. You were the twenty-fourth on the list who missed out on early admission. Even if you don’t sign, everyone will believe you set the fire.” I laughed through my tears. My father was a fire hero, but now, they were making me personally tarnish his name. … My stepfather noticed the defiance in my eyes and slapped me, sending me sprawling. “You brat, you dare glare at me? A few days without a beating and your skin’s itching, huh?” “If I hadn’t agreed to let a bastard like you into my home back then, you’d have starved to death! It’s your good fortune to take the blame for Jerry! Don’t be ungrateful!” My ears rang, and my head swam. Blood trickled from the corner of my mouth, splattering onto the confession papers. I wiped away my tears, grabbed the scattered pages, and tore them to shreds. My stepfather’s face flushed crimson above the neck. He grabbed the mop from the doorway, ready to strike me. “You little rascal, you’ve gone rogue!” My mother, Clarice, who had been silent, suddenly threw herself onto my back, shielding me tightly beneath her. My whole body trembled. Over the years, I had almost forgotten what it felt like to be protected by my mother. My stepfather and Jerry Blackwood had short tempers. They would often take their anger out on me when displeased; beatings and curses were commonplace. At first, Clarice would stand by, weeping incessantly. Later, she tried to persuade me to endure it, saying the pain would pass. Eventually, whenever I was hit, she would hide in her bedroom. This was the first time she had protected me. A bitter ache welled up, but the very next second, her words dragged me back to reality. “Elara, Mommy is begging you, please sign it. For Mommy’s sake, okay?” For her? The year Dad died, Clarice immediately used all the survivor’s benefits and donations for plastic surgery and luxury bags. Yet that year, I couldn’t even pay the thirty dollars for my textbooks. When had she ever cared about me? Just then, her precarious alligator-skin bag finally fell from the table. A stack of confessions, too many for me to tear, spilled out. I suppressed the tears that threatened to overflow again and broke free from Clarice’s embrace. “You want to force me to sign too? You want to ruin my entire life?” “My grades are enough to get into the top universities. That’s not just my dream; it was Dad’s lifelong aspiration.” Clarice lowered her head, avoiding my gaze, her voice as thin as a mosquito’s buzz. “Elara, what’s the use of a girl going to school? Don’t they all end up marrying anyway? It’s all the same. Just think of prison as going to school. When you get out, Mommy will definitely arrange a good match for you.” I swallowed the metallic taste of blood welling up, choked out: “Selling yourself wasn’t enough, you want to sell me again?” “Am I really your biological child? A birth mother forcing her daughter to take the fall for her murderous stepson—how absurd.” Hearing this, my stepfather, who had been pacing with the broom, turned deathly pale. Clarice quickly slapped my mouth, all gentleness gone from her face. “That’s your brother! He’s the future heir of the Blackwood family! How can you tarnish his reputation?” “The money you eat and use is Jerry’s future inheritance! You owe him all of this; you could be his slave for life and still never repay him!” Hearing those words, I laughed aloud. At the Blackwood mansion, I barely ate and had worn-out clothes during the day, sleeping in the basement at night. I never received a single cent. They ordered me to do this and that, eventually even firing the housekeeper and dumping all the chores on me. I wasn’t spending their money. I was spending the wages I earned as a servant! I threw away the pen and the new confession Clarice offered, stubbornly stating: “I don’t owe any of you anything!” “My father was a fire hero. I will never take the blame and tarnish his name!” My stepfather instantly erupted in fury. Clarice immediately cowered to the side. The broom repeatedly swung at me, causing me agonizing pain. My stepfather still felt it wasn’t enough and then pulled out his belt, savagely lashing me. Soon, new wounds mixed with old, leaving me barely clinging to life. Just then, the butler knocked on the villa’s grand hall door from outside. “Mr. Blackwood, a group of reporters has arrived, and they’re live-streaming!” My stepfather smiled, telling the butler to quickly invite the reporters in, his whipping arm not pausing for a second. The arriving reporters were all astonished by the horrific scene in the living room. Many looked at me with sympathy. The lead reporter made a move to help me up. “Mr. Blackwood, we’re here today to interview Elara, the twenty-fourth person who wasn’t caught in the fire. What happened to make you lay such a heavy hand on a child?” I widened my swollen eyelids, recognizing him as Reporter Davis, who had previously covered my father’s story. Just as I was about to cry for help, my stepfather sighed deeply, covering his face in sorrow: “Her mother and I personally heard her admit that she set the school fire. She said if the top twenty-three early admits all died, then she would be the one going to the top universities! We urged her to turn herself in, but she refused, even if it meant death.” “I am only her stepfather, and technically, I have no right to discipline her. But what she did is truly outrageous, twenty-three innocent lives! Even if I’m cursed for it, today I must discipline her properly for her heroic father!” Reporter Davis immediately let go of my hand, allowing me to collapse back onto the floor. He disgustedly wiped the bloodstained tissues repeatedly, angrily cursing: “Your biological father was a hero who saved the entire city, but you committed arson and harmed others! You are an absolute disgrace to him!” “Many kind-hearted people donated money back then, fearing you wouldn’t live well. What a waste of good intentions, feeding it to a dog!” “How could Captain Reed give birth to such a heartless beast like you!” No investigation, no evidence. They convicted me based on mere words. Reporter Davis glanced at the scrolling comments, then gave my stepfather a secret nod of affirmation before turning his camera to Clarice. Clarice opened her mouth, instantly bursting into tears. She fiercely slapped herself. “It’s all my fault. I didn’t discipline her well enough. She’s always been jealous since she was little. If only I had guided and educated her properly, those twenty-three children wouldn’t have died.” “She kept saying that no one would suspect her of arson because of her status as a martyr’s child. But Elara, heaven sees what people do!” With that, she made to kneel before me. “Mommy kneels and begs you, turn yourself in!” Reporter Davis quickly shoved the camera into my face. The scrolling comments clearly slammed into my eyes. “Why weren’t you the one who died back then! Murderer, go to hell!” “You, wanting to go to the top universities? Go to hell!” “Could it be that your dad set that fire back then!” … Filthy words turned into sharp knives, slowly torturing me. Dad sacrificed his life for a greater cause; I couldn’t let him be disgraced because of me. My lips trembled. I stared unblinkingly at the camera. “It wasn’t me! The one who set the fire was…” Before I could finish, my stepfather lashed my mouth with a whip. “Still not confessing!” He turned, feigning disappointment, “She locked her room tightly, not letting us in to find evidence. Even if I beat her to death, I couldn’t get justice for the unjustly dead children!” Reporter Davis then suggested breaking into my bedroom under the camera’s supervision to search. My stepfather and Clarice unhesitatingly took the reporters upstairs. It was then I realized my room had been moved from the basement to Jerry Blackwood’s former room, which had the best lighting. Soon after, my stepfather came downstairs, clutching a diary. He slammed it in front of me. It was filled with “Top Universities” and “Hate,” written in my handwriting. All the surrounding reporters instantly grew excited, each wishing they could shove me directly into the camera. “You envied and hated the twenty-three students who received early admissions to the top universities, so you deliberately lured them into the activity room and set it on fire. So young, yet so ruthless!” “Quickly sign the confession and come with us to turn yourself in!” “Confess!” “Go to hell!” “Beat her to death!” scrolled rapidly across the comments section. The cries grew louder and louder. My stepfather’s eyes darted, signaling the reporters to turn off the live stream. Unrestrained by the cameras, my stepfather grabbed my head and violently smashed it against the floor. “Little bastard, still not signing?” I shook my throbbing head and spat a mouthful of blood at him. “Pah, I… will never confess.” My stepfather, his face covered in blood, grinned sinisterly. “Now I am disciplining you at the urging of the vast netizens. I’d like to see how long your stubborn bones can last!” With that, he grabbed a stick, aiming to smash my leg. A shriek came from outside the door. “The murderer isn’t Elara, stop!” My stepfather’s face changed. The next second, the class president, Fiona, rushed in from the doorway towards my bruised and battered body, but she was immediately restrained by the Blackwood family’s butler and bodyguards. She was on the verge of tears, gasping as she shouted to the reporter holding the camera: “I’m Elara’s class president! I know her; she would never commit arson!” A warm current continually surged through my heart. She had been my classmate for over ten years, and my best friend. In the ten years since Dad passed, she had always protected me and helped me. Now, everyone had branded me a murderer, but only she still stood firmly by my side. Fiona struggled and shouted repeatedly. My stepfather’s eyes flashed with ruthlessness, and he signaled the butler to release her. Just as Fiona was about to rush to me, my stepfather lifted his foot and fiercely kicked her away. He then, gripping the stick like a demon, walked towards Fiona, who lay clutching her abdomen. “Class president, my ass? A cleaner’s daughter, daring to meddle in my Blackwood family’s affairs? Getting a beating for trespassing is perfectly reasonable, isn’t it?” Realizing what he was about to do, I nearly collapsed, roaring, “Don’t mind me, run!” Seeing the stick about to fall on Fiona, I desperately grabbed a nearby vase and threw it at my stepfather. Clarice suddenly shrieked. My stepfather turned, smashing the airborne vase with one swing. His face was livid. He raised the stick high above his head and brought it down forcefully on my right leg. The sound of bones shattering echoed, and I cried out in excruciating pain. Clarice stumbled, crying, to my side, but her words chilled me to the bone. “Elara, stop being so stubborn, just confess. Do you have to harm yourself and drag others down too? Mommy is begging you!” My whole body trembled uncontrollably from the pain, tears and blood mixing to cover my face. I gritted my teeth: “No, I am not a murderer! My father was a hero; I am not his disgrace!” Clarice still wanted to persuade me. Just then, Fiona, lying on the ground, cursed furiously: “Elara is not a murderer! You all are! If it weren’t for Uncle Reed back then, the entire city would have died. You show no gratitude, instead, you use a fake diary to force Elara to confess to an enormous crime, you ungrateful wretches!” She turned to Clarice. “You cherish someone else’s son like gold, but treat your own daughter like a servant. You dare call yourself a mother? Bah, disgusting!” Clarice’s eyes glazed over, frozen in place. Suddenly, Fiona turned and, pushing herself up, rushed towards Reporter Davis’s camera. “You’ve all been deceived! I am reporting, under my real name, that the one truly resentful about early university admission was their son, Jerry Blackwood!” A hush fell over the scene. The next second, my stepfather walked up to her, holding his stick and laughing loudly. “You filthy bitch, you don’t know, do you? These reporters are all mine! The live stream was shut down the moment you walked in!” “Dare to expose my son? You really have a death wish. What should I do with you?” I immediately sensed danger and cried out, “What are you doing? Stay away from her!” “Fiona, run!” Fiona’s face was pale, but she bravely comforted me. “Elara, don’t be afraid. This is a society governed by law; they wouldn’t dare to casually kill anyone! Besides, my life was saved by Uncle Reed. Even if I die today, it’s worth it!” I shook my head in terror. My stepfather reached out and touched her face. “I wouldn’t dare to casually kill anyone, but I can find dozens of men to keep you company.” He turned, his gaze venomous, to me. “Still not signing, Elara? Or do you want to personally see how many men your good class president can endure?” Despair enveloped me, pulling me into an abyss. “I…” Before I could utter the word “sign,” a familiar voice came from outside the door.

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1. It was the fourth year of my long-distance relationship with Lucas Ramos. For the first time, I kept a secret from him. I bought a train ticket to Washington, hoping to surprise him—he’d always been the one traveling thousands of miles to see me. Clutching a carefully chosen bouquet of roses, my heart raced as I felt the handmade ring hidden inside. On the campus of Washington University, an excited girl rushed past me. “Hurry, to the athletic field! Lucas, the campus crush, is confessing to Anna, the beauty from the art department!” I froze. The name was the same as my boyfriend’s. Seeing Lucas hadn’t replied to my messages, I turned and followed the crowd to the field. Then I saw them, two figures surrounded by flowers. “Anna Hayes, I don’t know when it started, but my heart has had no space for anyone else since.” “I just want to tell you, I’ll love you forever, until death.” The girl covered her mouth, tears streaming down her face. My world went silent. One was the man I’d loved for years. The other was my younger sister, Anna—the sister I’d sacrificed everything for, working day and night to support. They stood among roses, a perfect match. My flowers and the ring had already fallen, trampled into the mud by the crowd. I watched as Lucas knelt on one knee, gazing at her with deep affection. “Anna, with me, you’ll never have to rely on anyone else again.” I blinked, my eyes stinging, struggling to comprehend his words. So, my sacrifices… had they become shackles on their love? He continued. “From the first moment I saw you, it felt like my eyes could never truly see anyone else.” I froze, my gaze blank. The first time they met? I remembered. It was when I brought Anna to NYU. Lucas had met us at the station. That day, seeing the man outside the station, I ran to him, took his hand, and led him to Anna. “Anna, this is Lucas Ramos, your brother-in-law.” Then, smiling brightly, I looked up at him. “This is my sister, Anna Hayes. She was accepted into the NYU Art Department this year. Please look after her.” He paused, not speaking, which made me slightly confused. “Lucas, what’s wrong?” Only then did he snap out of it, his eyes flickering as he extended a hand to Anna. “Hello, I’m Lucas Ramos. You can come to me for anything.” Anna blushed and nodded, shaking his hand. “Thank you, brother-in-law.” I was a little surprised by Lucas’s action. He was usually reserved, never keen on physical contact with others. Even when we first started dating, it took a year before we held hands. Now, he was… But the thought vanished as quickly as it appeared. They were both the people I loved most. Seeing them get along, I was happier than anyone. At the time, I simply attributed Lucas’s daze to fatigue and Anna’s blush to shyness. Now, it seemed, I had been foolish. The cheers of the crowd pulled me back to reality. I blinked, my vision blurred by the sudden welling of tears. I watched, lost, as they embraced and kissed, unable to pull away. My heart sank deeper and deeper into an abyss. A girl beside me, her face flushed with excitement, shared a photo with her friend. “Finally, I can share this! I took it half a year ago, when there was that sudden flu outbreak and the whole school was quarantined.” “Then, that day, I saw Lucas, the senior, buying medicine without a second thought and personally delivering it to Anna. It was so sweet!” My pupils constricted. Yes, there had been a sudden flu outbreak half a year ago. I had been terribly worried in another city, afraid Anna would get sick, and transferred my entire month’s salary to her. Then, I suddenly fell ill myself. That evening, waking up alone in my apartment, my body ached all over, and I felt so lonely I wanted to cry. I called Lucas, asking if he could come stay with me. But he refused without hesitation. “Autumn, I can’t even leave my dorm right now.” He added before hanging up, his voice cold as ice. “If you’re sick, go to the hospital yourself. You’re an adult, and I’m not a doctor.” I felt humiliated. Just then, my sister sent me a photo with a bag full of medicine. “Autumn, don’t worry about me. The school gave out medicine. You should take good care of yourself too.” Only then did I feel relieved. Then I sighed, sad and alone, looking at the disconnected call. Now I understood. Where did those medicines come from… And for whom did Lucas make those exceptions, time and time again? The crowd around me was still cheering. I lowered my eyes, slowly backing away, walking against the tide of excited people. Unknowingly, I found myself in NYU’s botanical garden. There was an entire wall covered with wish sachets there. The first time I came to NYU, I dragged Lucas here to make a wish. “It’s really effective!” I said excitedly, but he seemed unimpressed. Only when he heard that did his eyebrow twitch slightly. “Effective? Fine, let’s write something.” Walking to a corner, I immediately spotted the two sachets we had personally hung. On a whim, I untied Lucas’s. I wanted to see what he had written. 2. I took down the sachet and slowly unfolded the note inside. “I’ve fallen for a girl in a white dress. My heart has never beaten like this for anyone before. But there seem to be obstacles to us being together. I hope my wish comes true.” I remembered how nervous and insecure Anna was when she first got into art school. To prevent her from being discriminated against in the art department due to financial issues, I used two months’ salary to buy her two expensive outfits, while I ate plain bread and noodles for two months. One of those outfits was the white dress she wore the day I picked her up at the station. My hand, gripping his note, slowly tightened, my knuckles cracking audibly. It was all so absurd it made me want to laugh. Had I just dug my own grave? So, the obstacles he mentioned… Were they me? No wonder Lucas had carefully protected the note that day, not letting me see it. “It won’t come true if you look. Don’t worry, it’s definitely about you.” At the time, my heart had been as sweet as honey. Thinking this, I slowly knelt down and untied my own sachet. Now, every word on it felt like it was mocking me. “I hope to grow old with Lucas Ramos, and I hope my sister is safe and healthy.” My breathing instantly became ragged. My heart felt like it was being pricked by countless tiny needles, the pain making my face pale. Then I closed my eyes, put both notes in my bag, and threw the sachets into the pond. Just then, my phone chimed. It was Lucas, finally replying. “You’re in Washington!” The exclamation mark didn’t convey excitement, but rather impatience and guilt. I didn’t reply, instead walking out of the botanical garden towards the campus exit. But at a corner along the way, I saw the two of them, sitting by the lake, leaning into each other, embraced. “What about Autumn?” Anna twisted her hands, her eyes downcast, looking a bit anxious. Lucas pursed his lips, reaching out to gently pry her fingers apart and rub them. “Anna, if your sister truly loves us, if she considers us the most important people in her life, then she shouldn’t stand in the way of our love.” “It’ll be okay.” Anna looked up, her eyes full of apprehension. “Really? But I’m truly afraid of hurting Autumn.” Lucas cupped her face and kissed her, his eyes overflowing with a love I had never seen directed at me. “Hush, leave everything to me. You don’t need to worry about any of this.” I leaned against the wall, utterly broken, a dull ache in my chest. My fingers dug into the plaster, drawing tiny specks of blood. My phone buzzed in my pocket. It was Lucas. “Sweetheart, I’m quite busy with graduation approaching. You go back first. I’ll come find you after everything is settled.” I tugged at the corner of my mouth, finding it laughable. I turned and left. It was midday, and the scorching sun made my head swim. Unconsciously, my mind wandered, and I found myself at Central Park. There was an undeveloped area there. Lucas, Anna, and I had buried three time capsules there once. We had promised to dig them up ten years later. Now I knew there wouldn’t be another ten years for us. Since I was already here, I might as well dig them up. With that thought, I ducked under the fence and walked alone to a large tree. Three small stones were still piled on top, our marker from that year. I kicked them away mercilessly and began to dig with my bare hands. Opening the time capsule, mine contained a photo of the three of us, Anna’s painting, and the crystal ball Lucas had given me the day he agreed to be with me. Opening Lucas’s, I found a red bracelet. Opening Anna’s, I found an identical one. “Ha…” My gaze solidified, filled with a sense of desolation. It turned out to be a solo performance all along. I stood up, my head suddenly light, my vision darkening. With a thud, I collapsed to the ground, losing consciousness. 3. I had a dream. I dreamt of my parents, constantly fighting and even hitting each other when I was a child. Whenever this happened, I could only hug a weeping Anna, huddling in a corner, covering her ears and saying, “Don’t be scared, big sister is here.” Later, they divorced, each remarried, and had other children. Anna and I became ‘orphans’. I practically raised her myself, dropping out of school to wash dishes in a restaurant just to support her. And it was during this time that I met Lucas Ramos. That day, a group of drunk men grabbed me, insisting I drink with them. I had just turned eighteen, never experienced anything like this, and trembled uncontrollably. But this only made the drunkards more interested. With lewd expressions, they started grabbing at me, their hands roaming my body. I cried out to the boss for help, but he simply ignored me. Just as they were about to drag me into their car, a young man on a bicycle appeared and knocked down the man holding me. The man on the ground roared in anger. “Where did this nosy kid come from! You’re looking for a fight!” Drunk courage fueled him, and he actually grabbed a wine bottle from nearby, smashing it fiercely towards us! My body instantly stiffened. I could only watch, paralyzed, as the bottle came closer and closer. Bang! The anticipated pain never came. The young man stood in front of me, blood from his forehead trickling down his pale cheek onto my hand. The men, seeing this, feared trouble and quickly fled. “You, you’re bleeding!” I cried, looking at the suddenly limp figure, my heart aching with worry. “I’m fine,” he struggled to stay conscious, “Dummy, after all these years, you’re still such a crybaby.” I had no time to wonder how he knew me, only thinking to call 911. Outside the operating room, I couldn’t figure out where I had seen him before, but the soft, continuous ache in my heart was unfamiliar to me. Thankfully, the surgery was successful. I stayed by his side all night, tossing and turning, unable to sleep. The next morning, he finally woke up, and his first words were, “Crybaby, I’m fine.” Buzz. My eyes suddenly widened. “It’s you, the big brother from South Gate Street who gave me candy?” He chuckled. “It’s me, but Autumn, we’re the same age. No need to call me so old.” I felt a little embarrassed, trying to ignore my increasingly erratic heartbeat. Later, he would always hold me when I was overwhelmed and helpless. “With me, we’ll take care of your sister together.” “Autumn, all you need to do is love me well. I’ll take care of everything else.” Falling for him, and then succumbing, almost became inevitable. My phone suddenly vibrated violently, waking me from my dream. I opened my eyes, realizing I was in a hospital. Reaching for my phone, I saw messages from Anna and Lucas. “Sister, are you in Washington? Where are you? Why didn’t you come to see me? I’ll come to you?” “Where are you? Why aren’t you answering? Your sister is worried.” I didn’t reply to any of them. My mind was a jumble, I truly didn’t know how to face them. “Bed 32, remember to pay the bill.” A nurse called out from the doorway. I nodded quickly, took out the IV drip, and walked towards the payment counter, holding it in one hand. “I’m pregnant now, what should I do?!” Anna’s sobbing voice came from the patient room beside me. My steps faltered, and I froze in place. Through the crack in the door, I saw Lucas holding Anna tightly in his arms. “Anna, if you want to keep the baby, I’ll definitely take responsibility. We’ll get married right away, and I’ll handle your sister.” “If you don’t want to keep it, I’ll find the best doctor.” Anna’s tears flowed like rain. “But whether I keep it or not, Sister will definitely find out! Then I’ll…” Lucas’s eyes reddened, filled with guilt. “It’s all my fault. I really couldn’t control myself that day, Anna. I’ll definitely convince Autumn.” My mind buzzed. The whole world suddenly fell silent, I could only hear my own heart, almost stopped. My steps stumbled, I almost fell to the ground. They actually… I raised my hand to my stomach, my eyes stinging. A year ago, there had been a tiny life here too. When I found out, I was overjoyed and immediately told Lucas. But he suddenly pulled me close, his eyes complex. “Autumn, this child…” He paused, his tone then becoming non-negotiable. “We can’t have it now. It’s too early. Can we talk about it later?” It felt like a bucket of cold water had been poured over me from head to toe. My smile froze on my lips. He hugged me, then casually arranged for the surgery, and the baby was gone. And because of the hurried surgery, I developed a chronic illness. Now, every time my period comes, the pain is unbearable. Thinking this, my steps were unsteady, and my body bumped against the doorknob, making a loud clang. The two inside froze, then quickly turned around.

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At my engagement party with my fiancé, my ex-boyfriend Damien Smith suddenly appeared. He clapped his hands mockingly as he walked toward us: “Serena Locke, I wondered how you dared to leave me. Turns out you found yourself a richer backer—my cousin.” The guests erupted in shock. The once lively banquet hall fell into dead silence. All eyes turned to me, filled with shock and scrutiny. But I simply gazed calmly at the face I’d once loved deeply for three years: “What? You used to despise me as a gold digger. Now that I’m with someone else, you still have a problem with it?” Damien and I met in college. In our third year together, my dad suddenly fell seriously ill and needed expensive treatment. I was desperately trying to figure out where to get the money when my roommate suddenly asked: “Why don’t you ask Damien for help?” I didn’t understand what she meant at first. “You don’t know? Damien’s family is loaded.” “I only found out recently when I went to a party at the Smith estate with my dad.” “Your dad’s medical bills would be like pocket change to him—the cost of one meal.” I froze, not knowing what to say. I could only remain silent. That night, I secretly followed Damien. I watched him smoothly open the door of a luxury car. I watched him drive into a gated mansion community. My emotions swirled—a confusing mix of feelings. I didn’t understand why Damien had been pretending to be poor. But the next moment, I felt a glimmer of hope. Hope that maybe Damien could really help me solve this urgent crisis. So without overthinking it, I pressed the doorbell of the mansion. In less than thirty seconds, the door opened. Seeing me, Damien was visibly startled. “Serena? What are you doing here? Who gave you this address?” He didn’t invite me in. He just stood sideways in the doorway, brow furrowed, looking at me. The suspicion and interrogation in his tone made me inexplicably nervous. I clutched the hem of my clothes, standing at the door like a child who’d done something wrong. All the opening lines I’d prepared on the way vanished from my mind. “Damien!” I spoke softly: “Could you please help me with something?” “My dad’s in the hospital. I urgently need money for his treatment…” Before I could finish, laughter erupted from inside. It was Fiona Ashford, Damien’s childhood friend. I’d heard Damien mention her before. “Damien, is this the new girlfriend you told me about?” “Didn’t you say last time that she wasn’t with you for money?” “No, it’s because my dad—” I tried to explain. But Fiona cut me off: “I know!” “You just have a seriously ill relative who needs money to be saved, right?” She placed her hand on Damien’s shoulder with a light laugh: “Looks like your new girlfriend is pretty clever—she’s even learned to use roundabout tactics to ask for money.” “Though this excuse is pretty old and not very original!” Fiona looked at me with contempt. “That’s not true, I’m not lying!” I quickly explained to Damien: “My dad really is sick and hospitalized.” I pulled out the crumpled diagnosis certificate from my pocket and held it up to him. But Fiona snatched it away: “Wow, you’re quite professional—even made fake medical records that look so authentic?” “Clearly an expert. You’ve probably scammed plenty of guys besides Damien, haven’t you?” One sentence branded me a con artist. Damien, who’d been half-skeptical, suddenly turned dark with anger: “And here I thought you were different from those gold-digging women.” “Turns out you’re all the same.” “I never wanted your money!” My voice cracked with tears, and I couldn’t control them as they streamed down my face. Damien froze. But Fiona beside him suddenly clicked her tongue twice: “They say tears are a woman’s best weapon.” “With acting skills like yours—crying on command—it’s a real shame you’re not in Hollywood.” Two sentences of manipulation successfully made Damien’s gaze turn cold again: “So what exactly are you doing right now?” My body stiffened. I felt petrified. Damien’s ice-cold questioning was like a frozen blade stabbing straight into my heart. I opened my mouth. But my throat felt blocked, and ultimately no sound came out. Three years of our relationship couldn’t withstand Fiona’s two sentences of instigation. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. I didn’t say anything more. I just forced myself to wipe away my tears and turned to leave. But the next day, a hundred thousand dollars suddenly appeared in my bank account. It was transferred from Damien. Below it was a message: “Didn’t you want money? Well, here’s your chance to earn it.”

From that day on, Damien changed. He was no longer gentle or considerate. He no longer treated me like his girlfriend. Instead, he treated me like a plaything to summon and dismiss at will. When he was thirsty, I had to deliver coffee under the scorching sun. When he was hungry, I had to bring him meals I’d cooked myself. When I finally managed to deliver them, he’d dump everything in front of me. Then casually say: “I suddenly lost my appetite.” Like a game he never tired of playing. Toying with me again and again. He even made me wear revealing dresses to accompany him to cocktail parties. “So this is Damien’s girlfriend?” “You’ve kept her hidden so long and finally decided to show her off?” His friends came over with drinks, teasing him. But Damien denied it outright. “No!” “Why would I bring my girlfriend to this kind of occasion?” When his eyes swept over me, they held a trace of contempt: “She’s just a toy I bought with money!” A casual remark, yet it stabbed into my heart like a knife. The pain made it impossible to breathe. For my father’s medical bills, I couldn’t defend myself. I could only stand there stiffly. The air around me instantly solidified. The previously curious and scrutinizing gazes all turned to mockery and ridicule. “A toy? Interesting!” Damien’s friend looked me up and down lecherously. “When will you let me play with her too?” “You like this type?” Damien asked casually. “I’ll send her to you when I’m done with her!” My head snapped up, eyes wide with disbelief. I couldn’t imagine Damien would give me away like an object to someone I’d just met. “Feeling upset?” Damien watched my embarrassed and humiliated expression with interest, wrapping his arm around my waist. The corner of his mouth even held a faint smile. “Serena Locke, since you’re after money, why pretend to be so wronged?” “I didn’t lie to you.” I forced out each word through gritted teeth: “You can just investigate at the hospital.” “I really just wanted to borrow money for my dad’s medical expenses…” Before I could finish, Damien pulled me into a small room next to the hall. “You think I didn’t investigate?” “I did look into this patient.” “It’s just a pity…” With a tearing sound, Damien roughly ripped my dress. “Fiona told me it’s all fake—a fake patient.” “That’s impossible—she’s lying!” Before I could protect my clothes, a tearing pain shot through my entire body. “Damien!” My eyes widened in terror. “You can’t do this here…” This room was separated from the main hall by only a glass door. Anyone could see with just a glance. Damien’s head expertly rested on my shoulder: “Afraid your new target will see?” He pressed my head against the glass: “Serena Locke, I never realized you were so capable.” “How many men have you hooked in such a short time?” “Who’s your next target? Mr. Morrison or the Mr. Bennett?” “I didn’t—I’m not that kind of woman!” I tried to struggle free, but Damien held me firmly in place. Pain crashed over me. My whole body shuddered uncontrollably. Damien ignored my words completely. Instead, he playfully lifted a strand of my hair: “I can stop.” “But… you can forget about getting another cent from me.” Thinking of the remaining medical bills for my dad, I fell silent. “See!” Damien’s husky voice sounded: “You’re no different from those other women.” Tears rolled down the glass drop by drop. I bit my lower lip hard, trying not to make a sound.

I don’t know how long this humiliation lasted before Damien finally finished with lingering satisfaction. He straightened his perfectly unwrinkled clothes and walked straight toward the cocktail party. Leaving only one sentence: “You can leave now.” Not caring at all that my dress was torn to shreds. I understood. This was also part of Damien’s twisted pleasure. He wanted me to leave looking disheveled like this. I bit my lip. I tried to gather the remaining fabric together and limped toward the exit, enduring the pain. Despite being extremely careful, I still attracted attention from those around me. Seeing my appearance, they instantly understood: “Oh my God, to do such shameless things at this kind of occasion? I’ve seen it all now.” “Young girls these days will do anything to climb the social ladder!” “That dress is wasted on her—such a beautiful dress ruined.” Damien stood in the crowd with a faint smile, as if he had nothing to do with it, enjoying the show. I ignored them. I just lowered my head and escaped this suffocating place as quickly as possible. My phone dinged. Another hundred thousand deposited. I don’t know when it started, but my relationship with Damien had completely become a financial transaction. I thought this would be the end of it. But a few days later, someone anonymously posted compromising photos of me on the campus website. They even gave it an eye-catching title: “Female College Student Allegedly Rejected After Offering Herself to Wealthy Elite” The photo was of me at the party entrance trying desperately to cover myself. The angle was calculated to maximize my embarrassment and humiliation. Hateful comments instantly flooded the entire comment section: “This kind of girl is a disgrace to our school—she should just leave!” “Clearly desperate for money, thinking taking off her clothes will get her into a wealthy family?” “I heard she’s an honors student in her department. Who knew her private life was this messy!” “Looks decent on the outside but so disgusting inside!” “Expel her immediately, or she’ll ruin our school’s reputation!” My fingers turned white from gripping my phone so hard. My entire body trembled uncontrollably. Before I could process it all, my advisor called to inform me of the decision to expel me. “No, Ms. Parker, please let me explain!” I gripped my phone tightly, trying to stay calm: “This isn’t what it looks like online.” “This is all a misunderstanding.” After I explained desperately, Ms. Parker finally agreed to give me one more chance to prove myself. I immediately called Damien, hoping he would clarify things with the school. But he just laughed dismissively: “Aren’t you though?” One sentence left me frozen in place. “However… I’m in a good mood today!” “I can give you a chance to beg me.” So an hour later, I rushed breathlessly to the bar Damien mentioned. The room was packed with people, and Damien sat right in the center. He smiled and pointed to the table full of alcohol: “These are all gifts prepared for you.” “Drink them all, and I’ll have the dean cancel your expulsion.” He knew I was allergic to alcohol. Yet he still chose to humiliate me this way. “Fine!” But I couldn’t be expelled. I had no choice but to agree. Glass after glass. My stomach burned painfully. My face and body swelled more and more from the allergic reaction. Seeing my movements slow down, Fiona, sitting next to Damien, suddenly spoke: “Drinking so slowly? Can you afford to waste our time?” Looking at her smug, instigating expression, a realization dawned on me: Fiona liked Damien. That’s why she’d framed me repeatedly. Unfortunately, I realized this too late. Fiona had already ordered people to pin me to the ground. First, they pried open my mouth and poured alcohol in. Then they simply dumped the rest all over me. Damien just sat there watching without saying a word. My vision gradually blurred. My stomach churned with wave after wave of pain. I felt something flowing out of my body. I suddenly thought maybe it would be better to just end it all like this. Something was flowing from my body. “Blood! She’s bleeding!”

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I was on my engagement day with mafia boss Jackson Wade when my first love crashed the ceremony. I didn’t hesitate to run away with him, but he let go of my hand outside the door and turned to his friends: “Told you she’d follow me. Pay up, guys!” In an instant, I became the laughingstock of the entire city. That night, Jackson chopped off my ex’s right hand. “Anyone who dares gossip behind her back, I’ll cut out their tongue.” After that, everyone said this ruthless mafia boss was madly in love with me—he could even forgive my betrayal. Until our wedding night, when a woman showed up at the door with a child: “If it weren’t for Jackson’s grandfather saying he’d only get his inheritance if he married you, why would he ever marry you?” “We got married three years ago. As for you, get lost!” But did they all forget? I’m the heir to New York’s biggest mafia family. 0I had them both kidnapped immediately. When I pressed my gun against the woman’s temple, Jackson rushed over. “She dies, or you die. Choose.” “Phoenix, if you’re angry, take it out on me. Felicity and the child are innocent!” Jackson stared at me intently, while the black-suited bodyguards behind him surrounded me. Felicity cried with terror written all over her face: “Jackson, save me! This crazy woman Phoenix wants to kill me and the child!” Her shrill voice grated on my nerves. I tapped Felicity’s temple with my gun barrel and threw the marriage certificate in Jackson’s face. “Innocent? Then explain this to me.” I laughed coldly: “Making the head of the Graves family the mistress! Jackson, you’ve got some nerve! Doing what even your parents didn’t dare to do!” Guilt flashed in Jackson’s eyes as he explained helplessly: “You were conservative before marriage and wouldn’t let me touch you. I only found her to satisfy my needs. The child was an accident. I promise she won’t bother you anymore.” “You want me to coexist peacefully with her?” I smiled bloodthirstily and pulled back the safety with a click: “Those who insult the Graves family must pay in blood!” “So, do you die, or do she and this bastard die together?” Watching Jackson’s hard face unconsciously reveal heartache and anxiety, I knew the scales in his heart had already tipped toward that mother and child. Felicity suddenly broke free from her ropes and shouted angrily: “Don’t you dare hurt Jackson!” Years of vigilance made me instantly pull out my dagger. I kicked Felicity’s knee, and as her body tilted, she crashed into the blade. She screamed in agony as a bloody mark appeared on her face. “Felicity!” Jackson’s eyes instantly turned red. Without hesitation, he shot at me. I dodged, covering my grazed arm as I watched Jackson carry Felicity away. The pain in my arm stimulated my nerves. In my mind, I heard sixteen-year-old Jackson earnestly swearing to me: “Phoenix, my gun will never be aimed at you. It will only obey your orders and target your enemies!” “Miss Graves? Should I chase them down?” My most trusted assistant, Hannah Brown, asked me quietly. Chase? My eyes were cold, my voice like ice: “Tell the executives—withdraw Graves Group from that massive joint project with the Wade family!” The next day, the company issued an announcement that Graves Group was withdrawing from its collaboration with the Wade family. Without Graves’s technical support, Wade family stocks crashed that very day. Jackson called furiously, his voice full of anger: “Phoenix Graves, suddenly terminating our partnership will affect both families. Are you really going to be this reckless?” I scattered some fish food and watched the koi in the pond compete for it, smiling dangerously: “I already told you—those who insult the Graves family must die.” “For Grandfather Wade’s sake, I’ll give you two choices: divorce that woman or the Wade family goes bankrupt. Pick one.” His breathing on the other end grew heavy. A moment later, he hung up abruptly. Half an hour later, Jackson sent me a photo of a divorce certificate. I notified the company to resume cooperation with the Wade family. Hannah handed me a towel to wipe my hands, saying quietly: “Miss Graves, you’re still being soft on him.” I slowly withdrew my hand, my tone somewhat desolate: “I don’t have many family members left.” 0

Jackson placed Felicity and her child in the Wade family’s private hospital for treatment, afraid I’d go after them. I had no interest in bothering with her, but I never expected her to dare provoke me! She added me on SnapChat and sent me a picture to show off: [Phoenix, Jackson never loved you!] [All those rumors about him loving you to death—that was just to placate your parents! Now that your father’s dead, he doesn’t need to act anymore!] [To restore my health, Jackson specially found the best herbs and a therapist for me. But this therapist was a snob and refused to serve me!] [Jackson said he’d cut off both her hands!] I looked at the photo—my beloved friend Julia White, covered in wounds, pressed to the ground, her hands soaked in blood. Raging fury erupted. My eyes blazed with hatred. I didn’t have many loved ones, and I cherished every single one! Jackson knew this was my weak spot. How dare he touch it! Madness flickered in my eyes. It seemed I’d been too reasonable these past few years, making him forget I was a lunatic to begin with. I brought people to break down the private hospital’s doors. Under Felicity’s terrified gaze, I grabbed her hair and slammed her head against the wall, my tone vicious: “Don’t you know how to spell ‘death’? Do you really think Jackson can protect you?” Felicity’s face was covered in blood. She screamed at me, her eyes triumphant: “So what if you’re Miss Graves? You still can’t have children!” “Do you really think Jackson would divorce me to marry you? Dream on!” “You’re just a pathetic creature nobody wants!” My mind went blank. I staggered back two steps, as if returning to that filthy night when I was sixteen. Jackson had invited me out, but we were both kidnapped and held in a warehouse. In the darkness, we tried to escape. To cover for him so he could get help, I deliberately drew the kidnappers away! After they caught me, they beat me until I was covered in wounds. Five or six men surrounded me. Their filthy hands stripped off my clothes, blindfolded me, and violated me at will. I endured the darkest night of my life. When I woke up in the hospital, the doctor gently told me I could never get pregnant again. Jackson looked haggard. With reddened eyes, he knelt before me and swore: “I’m sorry! Phoenix! My life belongs to you from now on!!” “I’ll protect you forever!” “If I break this vow, may I die a terrible death!” That night, the still-youthful Jackson completely transformed. He dealt with those thugs using ruthless methods and silenced everyone. He frantically built his power and expanded the company with only one goal: Become strong enough to protect me so I’d never be hurt again! But now he’d told an outsider about my deepest wound—the one I couldn’t bear to touch! My eyes turned blood-red. I gripped Felicity’s throat tightly, smiling savagely: “You want to die so badly? I’ll grant your wish!” Felicity’s face turned purple-blue from choking. Fear finally appeared in her eyes. “Stop!” A sharp gust came from behind. I punched backward, landing it on Jackson’s eye. He grunted but ignored his injury, anxiously picking up Felicity. I watched his heartbroken expression, and for a moment it overlapped with sixteen-year-old Jackson’s eyes. Sixteen-year-old Jackson felt heartache for me. Twenty-eight-year-old Jackson only had eyes for Felicity. I laughed quietly, then suddenly shot Jackson, demanding coldly: “That secret—did you tell her?” Jackson covered his arm and fell silent before explaining: “I got drunk and accidentally let it slip.” “Felicity’s young and speaks without thinking. She doesn’t mean any harm.” “You already shot me, so let’s call it even.” I smiled mockingly, enunciating each word: “Call it even?” “Jackson, what made you think I could keep backing down?” “Last time, Grandfather Wade’s kindness toward me—you’ve already used it up!” Felicity watched me raise my gun and screamed in terror: “Jackson, this bitch is crazy! Kill her quickly!” Jackson watched my unyielding stance. Irritation flashed in his eyes as he spoke coldly: “Phoenix, you need to consider my position. You can’t have children. The Wade family has such a vast fortune—I need an heir!” Each word pierced my heart, making me bleed. Silence permeated the air. Before my eyes appeared the image of sixteen-year-old Jackson, covered in blood, carrying me and running, crying in despair: “Phoenix, please, just hold on a little longer. We promised to spend our whole lives together!” “You can’t leave me!” “Phoenix, if you dare hurt Felicity and the child again, don’t blame me for being ruthless.” Jackson’s cold voice brought me back to reality. I watched Jackson’s retreating figure as he carried Felicity away. The boy who swore to protect me for life shattered completely in my memory. “True feelings really are the most fickle thing in this world.” I kept my back straight and spoke indifferently: “Spread the word—the arranged marriage is canceled. From today, the Graves family and Wade family are completely severed!” “The two families have no relationship anymore!” 0

As soon as news of the complete break between our families spread, the company’s stock price fluctuated dramatically. I stayed at the company headquarters every day. Two weeks later, the CEO’s office door was kicked open. My mother, who should have been recovering at the nursing home, was thrown in covered in blood. My pupils contracted. I panicked as I lifted my mother onto the sofa, shouting hoarsely: “Hannah, call a doctor!” Hannah rushed out with a cold face but was shot in the left leg by Jackson, her kneecap shattered. Other bodyguards were forced to kneel on the ground. I quickly checked my mother’s condition and found her entire body covered in whip marks, her breathing weak, as if she might die at any moment. Bloodshot vessels spread across my eyeballs. I grabbed the heavy office chair and hurled it at Jackson: “Jackson, you dared touch my mother—go to hell!” Jackson dodged gracefully. Wearing a black suit, he sat down calmly and lit a cigarette. Through the curling smoke, his eyes were indifferent: “Felicity’s face has permanent scarring. I couldn’t bear to hurt you, so I had your mother pay the price instead.” “Don’t worry, I was very measured. Just ninety-nine lashes. Your mother won’t die.” “Measured?” My hands were trembling. In extreme rage, I instead became calm: “Jackson, from now on, the Graves family and Wade family fight to the death!” Jackson laughed. He stood up, caressing my cheek, murmuring: “Phoenix, don’t say such angry words!” “You’re still too inexperienced. You can’t handle the business world.” He pulled out a stack of documents and gently placed them in my hands: “Take a look?” I flipped through the documents, my eyes growing deep. These were all share transfer agreements. Over the years, Jackson had secretly bought off many shareholders and transferred their shares to him. Now he was the company’s second-largest shareholder. If he sold his shares, the company would immediately collapse. I threw the documents on the desk and sneered: “No wonder you dared produce a bastard child, dared brazenly hurt those I care about.” “So you’d been making moves on Graves Corporation all along! When did you start scheming?” Jackson admitted frankly: “Seven years ago.” He embraced me from behind, very gently: “Phoenix, the business world is ever-changing—it’s not something you can handle.” His tone shifted, becoming forceful: “I love you. The arranged marriage between Graves and Wade families remains unchanged. The position of Mrs. Wade has always been yours.” “The promise I made is still valid—I’ll protect you for life, as long as you’re obedient.” “Don’t go after Felicity and her child anymore.” 0

Jackson left with his people. I sent my mother to the hospital for treatment. After confirming she was safe, I sat alone in the wrecked office all night. At daybreak, I slowly stood up, looking at the fierce eyes reflected in the transparent glass: “Hannah, I remember my father started divesting company assets before he died?” Hannah answered respectfully: “The old master understood men’s base nature, so he’d been guarding against the Wade family all along.” “Before he died, he not only transferred most of the company’s assets abroad, but also bought ten percent of Wade family shares through offshore companies.” “If Jackson thinks he can threaten you, Miss Graves, he’s badly miscalculated!” I lowered my eyes, looking at the ring I’d always worn on my left ring finger. Sweet memories with Jackson surfaced one by one, then dimmed and faded. I removed the ring and threw it in the trash without hesitation, issuing my command: “The Graves family’s dignity cannot be trampled. Take action!” Over the following days, undercurrents surged. I stayed at the hospital with my mother while Jackson took Felicity to Norway for a vacation. Felicity was like a dog with her master’s backing, sending me photos and taunts every day: [Jackson proposed to me under the Northern Lights. He said after marriage he’d let me live in the wedding house.] [He’ll raise my child as his heir, while you’re just a figurehead Mrs. Wade!] She sent intimate videos with Jackson, deliberately showing ambiguous marks, saying triumphantly: [Phoenix, guess why Jackson never touched you? Because he has psychological issues!] [You’re so pitiful, living your whole life being manipulated!] Then she sent several blurry photos and quickly retracted them. I stared at the photos, bloodshot vessels spreading across my eyeballs, my body trembling violently. Hannah noticed my abnormality and shook me, shouting: “Miss Graves, breathe!” I suddenly gasped out a big breath. In just a few seconds, my clothes were soaked with cold sweat. I closed my eyes and spoke hoarsely: “The incident when I was sixteen—use all our resources to reinvestigate it!” Three days later, Jackson was dragged by Felicity to the largest auction house. Almost every precious treasure at the auction was bought by her. For a time, she was in the spotlight. Others whispered: “A mistress acting so arrogant!” “Who told her to have Jackson’s favor? I heard he’s already made her son the heir. Even Miss Graves has to avoid her!” On the auction stage, the host began auctioning the final showpiece. Felicity, intoxicated by everyone’s flattery, said without hesitation: “Double the price! I’ll take the finale treasure!” The host smiled strangely and shouted loudly: “Miss Felicity has won the finale treasure!” “Now let’s see what this priceless treasure actually is!” The box slowly opened, revealing a kill order with Jackson’s name appearing before everyone’s eyes. In the silence, I entered the auction house with my people. I raised my gun at Jackson from across the room, my lips curling into a bloody smile: “Jackson, for scheming against me and the Graves family, today is your death day!”

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Three years after getting back together with Xavier, he cheated on me again. With the same woman from three years ago. When I ran into them at a restaurant, he lied and told me she was a client. The next moment, he shielded her behind him, looking at me with wariness and alarm. I knew what he feared—that I’d lose it again and hurt the woman he treasured most. But I simply stepped forward, straightened his slightly disheveled tie, and said gently: “Alright, I understand. Don’t drink too much. Remember to use protection during sex.” After a pause, I suddenly felt my concern was unnecessary, so I corrected myself: “Or don’t do it at all. That’s fine too.” I thought I’d been gentle and considerate enough. But somehow, Xavier’s face still darkened. The restaurant was quiet, with conversations deliberately kept low. Only the occasional soft clink of silverware against plates could be heard. The décor was thoughtful—roses everywhere, no other flowers in sight. Naturally, the people dining here were lovers. Or perhaps some were like Xavier. Everyone just tacitly played along, pretending to be affectionate. I acted as if I hadn’t seen Xavier’s darkened expression at all. I gave the woman he was shielding a slight nod, then turned and left. My friend walking beside me asked quietly, “Why aren’t you angry?” Angry? I didn’t seem to feel anything. Maybe I had been angry before, but it hadn’t helped. I’d even paid a heavy price for it. A price I couldn’t afford to pay a second time. I smiled calmly. “Nothing to be angry about. He was just meeting a client.” My friend looked at me in silence, her eyes filled with complex emotions. I knew what she was thinking. But I couldn’t tell her this was the first lesson Xavier had taught me: Learn to turn a blind eye to his affairs. When dinner ended, Xavier was waiting at the restaurant entrance in his car. I looked at my ride-hailing app still showing a queue, so I didn’t refuse. I opened the back door and got in. As expected, someone was sitting in the passenger seat. She turned around and smiled at me with a mixture of restraint and smugness. “Sorry, Mrs. Harper. I get carsick.” “Xavier took pity on me and let me sit here. There’s no other meaning to it—don’t misunderstand.” Xavier opened the door and got into the driver’s seat, explaining casually: “It’s just a seat. If you mind, I’ll have Bridget switch with you.” I nodded gently, still considerate. “It’s fine. I understand.” “I have motion sickness patches. Would you like one, Miss Sullivan? It might help.” Bridget said nothing. Xavier fell silent too. The car became quiet in an instant. It had started raining outside at some point. It looked cold. My friend sent me a message asking if I’d gotten a ride and whether she should come pick me up. I looked down to reply, not noticing Xavier gripping the steering wheel tightly. After a long while, he finally started the car before the rain got heavier. Bridget spoke again. “Drop Mrs. Harper off first. She lives closer.” At that, Xavier and I spoke almost simultaneously: “That works.” “No need.” I froze, then understood Xavier’s intention and quickly added: “Actually, it’s so late now, and it’s pouring rain. Going back and forth would be too much trouble.” “Why don’t you stay over? I just messaged the housekeeper and asked her to prepare both the master bedroom and guest room…” Before I could finish, Xavier suddenly hit the brakes hard. The tires screeched against the pavement. My forehead slammed into the back of the passenger seat. Before I could process the pain, I heard Xavier say coldly, “Get out!” I realized I’d misread his intentions again, so I shut my mouth. I quickly pulled out my folding umbrella from my bag, opened the car door, and got out. The rain was heavy—the small umbrella couldn’t shield much. I was quickly soaked through. Xavier drove past me, and the splash from puddles soaked my pants even more. I looked down at them briefly. When I looked up again, even the exhaust fumes were gone. In the end, I had no choice but to shamelessly message my friend and ask her to pick me up. She arrived quickly. Looking at me drenched, her eyes filled with exasperation. “You deserve this!” I forced a smile. “Clara, thank you.” “I know you mean well, but I can’t help it. I can’t leave him.” It wasn’t that my feelings wouldn’t allow me to leave him. It was reality that trapped me.

When I finished showering and came out of the bathroom, Xavier was back. He sat on the sofa with his head down, smoking—he’d probably been at it for a while, as the living room was filled with smoke. I paused while drying my hair, suddenly feeling this scene overlapped with three years ago. That was the day before our divorce. He smoked one cigarette after another until they nearly filled the entire ashtray. Finally, through the swirling smoke, he handed me the divorce papers with a cold, resolute expression. I walked forward somewhat stiffly, smiled, and took the cigarette from his mouth. “Stop smoking. It’s bad for your health.” Xavier looked up, his eyes filled with emotions I couldn’t read. I forced a smile. “Don’t worry, I haven’t misunderstood anything about you and Bridget.” “If you say she’s a client, then she’s a client.” “You already had plans with her. It was right to let her sit in your passenger seat and drive her home. I was the unexpected one.” “Don’t worry. I won’t cause trouble for her.” I was considerate and understanding, thinking from Xavier’s perspective. But somehow, Xavier still wasn’t happy. His lips pressed into a line, his expression dark. I grew anxious, almost panicked, telling him, “If you want to bring Miss Sullivan back here, I don’t mind either.” “If she finds me bothersome, I can move out too…” “Enough!” Xavier suddenly snapped, cutting off the rest of my words. He gripped my hand tightly, his eyes bloodshot as he looked at me: “If you’re so gentle and considerate, why don’t you just give up your position as Mrs. Harper!” I bit my lip, enduring the pain in my wrist, and looked at Xavier. “Then would you stop paying for my mother’s medication?” Xavier’s eyes widened. Not getting an answer, I asked again, unwilling to give up. “If I give up this position, will you still cover my mother’s medical expenses?” “Xavier, I can give it up—as long as you keep paying for my mother’s medication. Will you?” Xavier’s pupils contracted sharply. He suddenly flung my hand away and stood up from the sofa with a violent motion. He stared at me intently, not missing any expression on my face. I wasn’t lying. It was all true. I could give my position to Bridget. Really. Xavier seemed to see something in my face. He laughed bitterly. “And you say you haven’t misunderstood?” He came over again, took my hand, and rubbed the spot he’d just gripped red: “Bridget is just my client. I’m not lying to you. Really.” “Vienna, don’t be jealous for no reason. It’s annoying. You know I’m not in the mood to humor you.” I looked down at the spot he’d rubbed, wanting to say I wasn’t jealous. But it seemed pointless. So I didn’t argue. I simply nodded along with what Xavier said. “Okay. I understand.”

After that day, Xavier seemed like a different person. He suddenly stopped going anywhere, leaving late and returning early. In the mornings, he’d have me walk him to the entrance. After putting on his shoes, he’d turn back to kiss my forehead. At night, he’d bring me flowers—sometimes pansies, sometimes irises… Different ones every day. Then he’d kiss the corner of my lips and tell me: “Today, I missed you very much.” But the man who said he missed me spent his days shopping with Bridget and going to hot springs. He pretended affection, and I pretended affection too. Neither of us asked or spoke about it. Until Xavier’s mother’s birthday. Xavier said he wanted to take me back home to celebrate. I agreed. When he came to pick me up that evening, the passenger seat was already occupied. It was Bridget. She smiled at me without a trace of guilt. “Sorry, Mrs. Harper. I get a little carsick.” Was this Xavier testing me? I smiled and nodded, unbothered. “It’s fine. Carsickness is uncomfortable. I understand.” As I pulled open the back door to get in, Xavier got out of the car. He opened the passenger door and looked at Bridget. “Get out.” Bridget’s face changed. She forced a smile. “Mr. Harper, I…” Xavier held the door with a cold expression. “Don’t make me drag you out myself.” Bridget’s face looked even worse. The atmosphere grew tense. Just as I was about to break the awkward silence, Xavier pulled Bridget out. “Either sit in the back or get your own ride.” He didn’t look at Bridget’s expression. He simply helped me into the passenger seat. I felt conflicted, but I knew this wasn’t the time to defy Xavier. So I said nothing. Bridget didn’t call her own ride. She sat in the back. After the car started, Xavier handed me a gift box and explained simply, “For my mother. You give it to her.” I made a soft sound of agreement. Before I could speak, Bridget spoke first: “It’s an emerald necklace. I took Mr. Harper shopping for it. It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” I touched the gift box and smiled gently. “Yes, it really is beautiful.” See—the man who said he missed me. His body was always somewhere else. How could I dare believe him?

Xavier’s mother didn’t have a big celebration for her birthday—just a few family members. She really liked Bridget, finding her articulate and charming. I heard that when Xavier and I divorced the first time, she’d strongly tried to set him up with Bridget. But Xavier hadn’t agreed. Perhaps he found sneaking around more exciting. Today was the same. Xavier walked past me and took Bridget’s hand directly. “I’ve been waiting for you.” “Bridget, you don’t visit often. Without you here, I don’t even have anyone to share my thoughts with.” She took Bridget’s hand and had her sit beside her. She didn’t look at me once the entire time. I was used to it. I calmly placed the gift on the table. “From Xavier. Miss Sullivan chose it.” Xavier’s mother, who hadn’t even glanced at me, surprisingly looked my way. After a moment, she picked up the gift box to look, then had Bridget help her put it on. “You have such good taste.” “Unlike some people—no taste and no tact either.” “So unpleasant to look at.” If this were before, I definitely couldn’t have tolerated it and would’ve left. But now, I just stood to the side, listening quietly, reacting no more than a corpse. Xavier frowned, suddenly feeling something was off. It seemed that ever since Vienna had run into him and Bridget at the restaurant, she’d been like this. Too calm. Or rather… indifferent. For the first time— Xavier got drunk in his own home. He didn’t know why, but his mind kept replaying Vienna standing to the side, head down, silent, seemingly indifferent to everything. Was she… really indifferent? Xavier drank even more. Unable to go back, he could only stay the night at the family estate. Bridget stayed over too. In the room right next to mine and Xavier’s. A deliberate arrangement. I understood Xavier’s mother’s intention. So that night, when Xavier, using alcohol as an excuse, pinned me down to kiss me, I pushed him away. I straightened his collar and smiled. “Wait a moment.” Then I went out and called Bridget over. Under Bridget’s shocked gaze, I closed the door for her and Xavier. Then I drove away from the Harper family estate. Ten minutes later, I received a call from Xavier. He suppressed his voice and asked, “What do you mean by this?” I looked at the road illuminated by headlights and said softly: “Last time you got drunk holding me, you called Miss Sullivan’s name all night. I assumed it would be the same this time.” Xavier roared into the phone, “I didn’t call her name this time!” My tone remained gentle. “I know. But what if you did halfway through? I was thinking of you.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “372035”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #重生Reborn #浪漫Romance